Let the Living Creature Lie
by phabulousphantom
Summary: Set in modern-day London, Grelle and Sebastian are only a month away from celebrating their 125th anniversary when changes at the Shinigami Dispatch Association bring a new creature into their life: Auden, a 14-year-old handful of a girl who's only just become a reaper. Training her is going to be an undertaking.
1. New Shinigami

_Author's Note:_

 _This story is almost purely slice-of-life, with plot driven by characters and their relationships with one another rather than specific action. Grelle and Sebastian appear here as I imagine they might after spending 125 years living together in disguise as humans—much gentler and somewhat domesticated._

 _Chapters are short, more scenes than anything else, and I promise you won't be disappointed if you keep reading beyond the first. Much love and enjoy!_

 _~Phab_

* * *

Sebastian hardly ever slept. Sleep was purely recreational and it wasn't a recreation he found he

enjoyed in particular, so instead over the years he had taken up a vigil—watching over Grelle and their home while she was asleep. Grelle had explained to him once that reapers' need for sleep stemmed from their once being human, but even then he never understood why she enjoyed it so much—or seemed to need so much of it for that matter.

Regardless, his nights were spent roaming the house or else sitting up next to her and watching her sleep, though she was not asleep now, he could tell. Something was keeping her up, and just as she was about to turn over, drawing in a breath, he said:

"What is it?"

Grelle halted mid-inhalation and scowled up at him. "How did you—"

"Hush. I always know. Now what is it?"

Sighing, she rolled the other direction and switched on the lamp on the bedside table before grabbing her glasses and putting them on. This _was_ serious. All set up, she regarded Sebastian frankly, propped up on an elbow.

"There's been a lot of… _changes_ at work," she began.

That wasn't unusual. The nature of a reaper's work was always changing, particularly over the last century. Sebastian simply looked back at her. "Yes?"

"Well, 'changes' isn't exactly the right word for it. Things are happening and nobody's really sure what to do."

"About what?"

"Some new Shinigami. There's been an increase of, well…of young suicides. The new ones…they've got no way to process what's happened or what's going on and they're not adjusting to the job very well. Which is understandable of course, but…"

"But."

"They're just kids, Sebastian. Twelve, thirteen—fourteen year old kids who have taken their own lives to escape the hell they live in only to get stuck with a new life that's even more miserable than the old one." Frustrated apparently, she let out a little angry burst of air and flopped back onto her pillow. She faced him, but looked instead at the sheets.

He settled down on their bed to be level with her and brushed his fingers across her cheek. "Don't tell me you don't enjoy being what you are, my love."

Her eyes flicked up to meet his. "I've never regretted my choice, no. But everyone is not me, Sebastian."

He had to agree with her there, but it was not the time for humor, so he did not laugh. Instead he turned onto his back and looked up at the ceiling, folding his hands over his stomach.

"So, what has Dispatch decided to do with all these…newcomers?"

"Personnel has started a mentoring program. Like foster care."

"Ah." He could see where this conversation was going now. "And you want to put our names on the list."

She sat up, looked down at him. "I would."

"I'm surprised you haven't already done it without my consent, quite honestly."

She glared at him and the expression made him laugh, so she glared harder.

"Sign up to welcome a complete stranger into our home—a teenager who's just committed _suicide_ , mind you, thereby creating another mouth to feed, _and_ counsel, and not at least _tell_ you about it first? Give me a little more credit."

"I give you as much credit as you deserve, my love."

He reached up to her and she sighed, lying down again, her head on his shoulder, and he rested his hand on her head, stroking her hair—long and beautiful and the bright color of blood. It never seemed to get tangled, even when he tied it in knots.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"About what?"

"About fostering a new Shinigami. Pay attention."

He chuckled. "Give me a moment, hm?"

She sighed, but was quiet, and he continued stroking her hair as he processed all of this new information and thought through several thousand worst-case scenarios. None of them seemed particularly out of his depth. He _was_ a demon after all. And then there was Grelle. Strange, sweet, not-at-all-innocent Grelle—whom he had discovered over the years had more love in her heart than he could ever hope to comprehend.

He sat up slowly to give her time to follow, and she did, looking at him intently, nervous and hopeful all at once. He grasped her hand.

"I know how badly you've wanted to be a mother—"

She looked down.

"—and we both know how impossible our circumstances make that on many different levels, so…I think that this is exactly the opportunity you need. And I think you should take it."

"But this isn't just about me. I'm not the only one who will be affected. I want _you_ to be happy with it, too, Sebastian."

Her gaze had turned to her lap, so he lifted her chin for her to look at him, which she did reluctantly. Children had never been his thing and she knew this, but then again Grelle had never really been his thing either and look where they'd ended up—together over a hundred years through thick and thin. This was what she wanted, and if she had asked for the moon he would have found a way to buy it for her.

"You'll be happy, so I'll be happy," he said. "Put our names on the list."

Her eyes lit up on a little spark and she tensed. "Really?"

"Of course."

A joyful sound squealed out of her and she threw her arms around him, pressing several kisses on his mouth all in a row. Happy already. He smiled and she pulled back in time to see and return the expression.

"Then it's settled," he said.

"Yes, I suppose it is." Her shoulders pulled up around her ears and she grinned madly, beyond elated. She flopped down onto her back and turned over as if to go to sleep, but she did not, or could not, or perhaps a bit of both. She rolled back to face him, looking up out of those bright, green eyes.

"And you'll be happy?"

"Yes."

"You promise?"

He chuckled. "Yes. Go to sleep."

She sat up quickly and kissed him again, and when she pulled back, she held his face in her hand and looked sincerely into his eyes.

" _Thank_ you, Sebastian. Really."

"You're welcome, Grelle." He touched his forehead to hers. "Now go to bed. If you're tired tomorrow, William will blame me."

As she settled down and pulled the covers up to her throat, she laughed to herself. "On many occasions he wouldn't have been wrong to do so."

"You hush," he said and reached over her to turn off the light. She smiled sideways up at him as he did and he returned it before turning the knob on the lamp. In the dark he took up his post sitting propped up against the headboard. Grelle stirred, getting ready to turn over.

"Good _night_ , Grelle Sutcliff."

"Hm-hm, fine. Goodnight. Don't let anyone rob us while I'm asleep."

"They would be fools to try."

She laughed a little and then settled down, still excited, he could tell, at the prospect of whatever was to come. Eventually her breath became slow and deep, and as soon as he was sure she was asleep, Sebastian took her hair into his lap and tried to tangle it in knots.


	2. The Day of Departure (Part One)

She was wearing the red blazer, the one that tapered in at the waist and was ruffled at the back like a bustle. It was lovely, one of his favorites, and one that reminded him of days long since passed—days when Grelle very probably should have been wearing a dress and bustle but never would have gotten away with it.

She turned back and forth in front of the mirror, nervous, fretting, smoothing out the already smooth fabric over her waist and stomach, plucking at loose strands escaped from the high ponytail she'd managed her hair into. Even contained it still fell all the way down her back. Grelle frowned at herself in the mirror—never up to the standard in her head.

Buttoning the last of the buttons on his shirt, Sebastian stepped up behind her and met her eye in the mirror.

"You almost look respectable," he said and smiled.

She pursed her lips. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"In its way."

"Well, you're terrible for it. Don't open up a practice."

He laughed and she returned to her inspection, picking little invisible bits of fluff off the blazer and sprinkling them onto the floor.

"Stop it, Grelle. You look fine."

He took her hands when she did not stop and forced her to turn from the mirror and face him. She frowned.

"Just 'fine'?"

"Radiant, beautiful, exquisite, lovely—take your pick."

She glanced over at herself in the mirror. "I want to look…responsible, but fun."

"I'm not sure 'responsible' is a look you could ever achieve, my love."

Narrowing her eyes, she clicked her tongue at him and batted him away though she smiled and the gesture was playful. They were collecting their infant Shinigami today and Grelle had been fretting about it all week, laying out several thousand different outfits, practicing walking, shaking hands, speaking respectfully (which came with some difficulty), even signing her name. She wouldn't allow any ounce of lack of preparation on her part to keep her from getting what she wanted.

He put his hands on her shoulders. "What I mean to say is don't worry. Everything will work out as it should."

She sighed and pulled the blazer straight by tugging on the bottom hem. "I suppose you're right."

"Though you _do_ seem to wear a lot of red. We ought to expand your wardrobe."

She tossed saucy gaze back at him, her eyes half veiled by their lids. "Said the man who only wears black."

He smiled into her face. "White today."

"Dress shirts don't count," she replied and moved away, tossing a hand in the air before tossing him his tie—black, appropriately. "Hurry up. I don't want to be late."

She grabbed her bag from the back of the door and was clicking her heels into the hall before he even had the tie around his neck, so he had to catch up as he made the knot. She paused at the bottom of the stairs to look back at him.

"Oh, and roll your sleeves up. I don't want us to look too stuffy."


	3. The Day of Departure (Part Two)

Grelle clutched his hand, pinned to his side as they sat, her knee bouncing up and down while the clock ticked away on the wall. They'd been checked in—all the interviews and paperwork had been in place weeks ago, their potential ward already selected for them. The reapers did love their paperwork and Grelle had been particularly meticulous so all that remained was for the three of them to meet, make sure the match was a good one. It seemed to Sebastian rather like trying out a humane society dog for thirty minutes before deciding to adopt it, but he didn't mention the thought to Grelle. Grelle would take in a dog half dead and starving with fleas on sight if given the opportunity.

"I'm nervous, Sebastian."

He smiled. "Yes, I can tell."

They'd been led off to a private room, told to sit and wait while someone from Personnel went to collect the girl and bring her to them. That was the first information they'd been given about their charge: she was female, fourteen and a Shinigami only for a few weeks. Grelle ticked anxiously away at his side.

"What if she doesn't like us?"

"Then we'll go through the process again."

"What if—"

He put his fingers over her lips. "Hush. We both know we can't plan for every 'what if'. We'll take it all as it comes, all right?"

Grelle nodded.

"Good girl."

Still, she did not relax. He put an arm around her shoulders, pulled her in, kissed her temple. Then at once the door clicked open and the pair of them shot to their feet—Grelle's anxious excitement evidently having caught on a little. She held his hand in a death grip.

The reaper on the other side of the door was alone.

Sebastian and Grelle glanced at each other, then back at the reaper.

"We're having some, ah—trouble," he said, adjusting his glasses and tucking a clipboard under his arm.

"Trouble? What kind of trouble?" Grelle's grip impossibly tightened around Sebastian's hand. "I filled out all the paperwork, my record more than speaks for itself, we've done everything necessary for there _not_ to be trouble, we—"

"No, Ms. Sutcliff, it's nothing to do with you. The girl—we can't get her to come out."

Again, Sebastian and Grelle exchanged expressions. The reaper's upper lip twitched. The situation must have been a new one, and they _did_ love to follow protocol. He must not have known what best to do. He cleared his throat.

"I came to take you to her since it can't be the other way round. We were hoping maybe you could talk her down. Will you go?"

Grelle nodded after glancing at Sebastian. "Yes, of course. Of course we'll go."

"This way, then."

The reaper gestured with his head toward the door and started off. Sebastian offered his arm to Grelle and once she'd taken it, they followed, moving swiftly through Dispatch. Eventually they wound their way through to a more secluded wing, and as they turned a corner, the so called "trouble" became rather more apparent. Screams echoed down the hallway, punctuated by various oaths and curses in the same voice and peppered with the shouts and orders of Shinigami as they tried to gain control over the situation. Half a dozen of them crowded around a door in the middle of the hall.

"Sutcliff and Michaelis coming through!" the reaper leading them shouted, and the crowd around the door parted and several more Shinigami came pouring out of the room. Sebastian glanced at a few of them before heading inside after Grelle, and just as he oriented himself to the room, a wild fist went flying straight for Grelle's head, a sharpened plastic spoon in its grip. He caught it right as Grelle came to a stop.

Grelle blinked, the homemade point of the spoon only an inch from her face.

The owner of the arm and spoon struggled against him—whether to pull her arm out of his grip or keep on her attack on Grelle he couldn't be sure, but she was so young and weak and inexperienced that it was not even exercise to hold her still. He studied her as he held on—she was small, and obviously frightened—ruddy black hair all a mess around her face and shoulders, wild Shinigami eyes shining out of its shadows. Her face was gaunt, her arms thin. She was a starved little raven, but she looked at him with such fire. They would have to keep their eyes on this one.

At once she snarled and tried a final assault on Grelle, but he tightened his grip and her growl turned to a small cry. She dropped the spoon and it clattered to the floor.

Grelle bent over and picked it up, admiring her handiwork. "Now where did you learn to this, hm?" She whirled round and the several Shinigami in the doorway behind her flew back, startled. She dropped the spoon onto one of their clipboards.

"Evidently you don't watch enough about prison on the telly," she said. "If you've got anyone else like this one, you may want to check their pockets."

The reapers just stared at her.

"Well? Go on. We've got it handled, as you can see." She shooed them away and they scattered, but Grelle caught the one who had led them there by the collar. "May I have her records, please?"

She smiled, which could be quite a sinister thing with those sharp teeth, and the reaper did not hesitate to pull a few sheets of paper off his clipboard and pass them to Grelle. Taking them, she waved him away, saying, "One or two of you should probably stay just outside. Just in case." With that, she reentered the room and pulled the door closed behind her.

The girl in Sebastian's grip flicked her narrowed eyes between the two of them, suspicious of their confidence. Probably she hadn't dealt with any senior Shinigami since she'd been there, and she _certainly_ hadn't had dealings with demons, so the pair of them was a new experience. Sebastian was certain by looking at her that she'd had Personnel running round in circles for weeks trying to figure out what to do.

Grelle strolled over to a desk—the makeshift bedroom prison cell had once evidently been an office space—and lifted herself up to sit on top of it. The girl watched her with vicious eyes as she did. Grelle looked back coolly.

"Let her go, Sebastian."

The girl glanced up at him and he down at her—maintaining eye contact as he slowly released his grip. He thought she might retreat into the corner once she was free, but when he finally let go, she stood her ground.

"This guy your bodyguard?" she spat, glaring at Sebastian.

Grelle laughed out loud. "Gods, no! This is Sebastian, my—hm…boyfriend, husband, partner, what-have-you—I'm not sure what label to give him, but we've been together a long, long time. I'm Grelle." She smiled. "You want to tell me your name or should I look at your records?"

The papers themselves were sitting face down on the desk beside Grelle, unviewed. The girl narrowed her eyes once again and moved away to sit on her bed.

"Why don't you just read them?" she hissed. "They'll tell you everything you need to know about me."

Grelle was quiet for a moment, her head cocked to one side as she looked at the girl. Then she said, "That is precisely why I _haven't_ looked at them."

The girl's head popped up in surprise.

"The things they put on paper never paint a pretty picture of the person they describe, do they? Particularly if you've got rule-following Shinigami writing the reviews. I want _you_ to tell me about you. What do they know? Gods, if you looked into my record who knows what kind of horror stories you'd find." She laughed again. "Right, Sebastian?"

She smiled at him and he went to her side, taking up her hand and kissing the back of it. "Not as many as you'd find in mine, my love."

She stroked his cheek and looked back at the girl. "Let's try this again, hm? I'm Grelle. And this is Sebastian."

Apprehensive eyes flicked between the two of them. It will take time for you to earn my trust, they seemed to say. But her mouth did open, and she took a little breath in, and said, "Auden."

Grelle beamed. "Well, then, Auden, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Auden looked at her lap, tucked her hair behind her ears. Now that some of the defiant spark had gone out of her, she looked tired—exhausted. She must have been putting up a fight for days. Her skin was tight around her bones and she seemed to shake. He and Grelle observed her, quiet. Eventually, Grelle prompted her to speak.

"I'll answer any question you have, Auden. Please ask."

Auden took in a sharp breath. "You," she said, "you have eyes like me. We're the same?"

"Yes," Grelle replied. "We're both Shinigami. Or grim reapers, if you prefer."

"And…" Her eyes flashed up, two points of light in a dark face, "you killed yourself, too?"

Grelle shifted, not expecting the question, but she did not hesitate to answer. "Yes," she said. "That's how one becomes a grim reaper."

For whatever reason, that seemed to settle Auden slightly though she did not let her guard down. She still sat stiff as a board on the edge of the bed, ready to spring at a moment's notice, though she must have known she was no match for himself or Grelle, much less the two of them together. What an odd creature. And he would be keeping it in his house.

"And you," Auden said, looking at Sebastian. "What are you?"

"I'm a demon," Sebastian replied.

"A…demon?"

"There are angels, too," Grelle supplied. "Agents of heaven and hell, and we, the Shinigami, are neutral. We collect human souls. And demons eat them."

"Wouldn't that make you enemies?"

Grelle looked Sebastian's way and grinned. "I always did love a bad boy, eh, _Bassy?_ "

Oh, his beautiful Grelle. He leaned in, pressed a kiss behind her ear. What a lucky, lucky demon he was to have found her. He might have let her know with a little bit more, but the two of them felt Auden's acute stare and he pulled back. Grelle looked over at her.

"You're not wearing your glasses. You must have a headache." She hopped off the desk and took the glasses from atop it into her hand, walking over to the bed and Auden and holding them out. "Here. Put them on."

"I look stupid."

"Well, they're training glasses. They look stupid on everyone. Once you graduate you get a new pair. Like these." Grelle tapped the frames of her own glasses and smiled. "Though perhaps a little less ostentatious."

Auden moved carefully, but took the glasses out of Grelle's hand and slipped them onto her face.

"Better?" Grelle asked.

Auden nodded.

"Good." She took a seat on the bed next to her. "You have a choice now, Auden. Personnel has been assigning mentors to the new Shinigami like you, and I'm _your_ mentor. So, you can choose to stay here or you can come home with Sebastian and me. Or I suppose you could think about it for a few—"

"I'll go with you!"

The words spilled quickly out of her mouth. She almost looked surprised at how desperate she sounded. Grelle blinked, but puffed up, excited.

"All right, then. That was easy. I'll go tell someone we're taking you home." She hurried for the door. "I'll just be a minute."

The latch clicked into place as the door shut behind her, leaving Auden and Sebastian in relative silence. He could feel her eyes on him, so he looked at her. Much to his surprise she did not shrink at his gaze.

"You don't talk much," she said, almost accusing.

"Grelle does enough of that for ten," he replied.

She smiled a bit, but it faded. It was several beats until she spoke again. "You really are… _with_ her, then?"

"Oh yes. As she said: a long, long time."

"How did you meet?"

He laughed grimly. "Under circumstances I'd much rather care to forget."

Auden puzzled at him—her eyes much clearer now behind her glasses. She was right. They _did_ look stupid on her.

"Your nails are black. Do you paint them?"

"No, they come that way. Do you have any belongings you need to bring with you?"

She scoffed. "Does it _look_ like I have belongings?"

"It's obvious you don't own a brush."

A fierce scowl jumped onto her face and snapped her mouth open to retort, but he continued in spite of her. Whatever indulgences Grelle was going to allow this girl he would have to make up for them. That was how it worked, wasn't it? There was a fun parent and a strict parent? He'd never seen Grelle strict a day in her life, so it was clear the responsibility would fall to him.

"And you're half starved. We should feed you immediately, probably on the way home. Is there something you like or do you care at all?"

She looked about to reply in the negative, shoot the suggestion of food down altogether, but her stomach growled and betrayed her and she hung her head. Sebastian only just managed to keep from clicking his tongue.

"We'll definitely stop on the way home."

Grelle reappeared then, coming through the door trailing a few other Shinigami behind her, all of whom steered well clear of both himself and Auden.

"Everything's settled, we just need to sign a few release forms," Grelle said, smiling as one of the reapers laid out papers across the desk. "Then we need to stop by Administration to pick up a Death Scythe. Oh, just a practice one, dear, don't look so frightened."

Auden had indeed turned rather pale and she glared at Sebastian when she noticed his noticing. Grelle offered a pen to her and she stepped away to sign her name at the bottom of the series of forms. Grelle followed suit and once finished, held her pen out to Sebastian.

"You too, Sebas-chan. Since you'll be a legal guardian and all."

"I think you enjoy the sound of that a little more than you should," he said, taking the pen and signing his name beside hers.

She murmured a laugh. "I always did like the look of responsibility on you."

"As I have often wondered what it would look like on _you_ ," he replied and returned the pen to one of the waiting Shinigami.

"I guess you'll never know." Grelle tossed her shoulders in a happy shrug and led the way out of the room on confident, clicking heels. "Well then, this way, Sebastian, Auden."

Following Grelle, they wound their way through Dispatch down to the Administration levels, and through those levels to the series of desks and glass windows where Death Scythes were handed in and out in a constant, steady stream. Shinigami were masters of bureaucracy, and had been for as far back as Sebastian could remember, though it wasn't until recently that he'd been privy to so many secrets of the inner workings. Sharing a home and a bed with one of the more senior members had brought about _that_ change.

A lengthy line of reapers had queued between two snaking velvet ropes that switch-backed in front of the windows, and Grelle joined the end of it after grabbing a clipboard and several forms from a desk that was piled with them. She filled them out, chattering away at Auden about the process of checking out a Scythe, though she eventually had to quiet in order to complete the paperwork without making a mistake as she had a tendency to write down whatever she was saying. Auden just stood there through it all, trembling slightly like a small dog, her arms folded across her chest. Her eyes darted constantly around the room, worried probably about all the other Shinigami as she'd only just been released from her cell. The reapers gave the three of them a wide berth, but that had little to do with Auden.

"They keep their distance from me, not you," Sebastian said as they shifted forward in the line. Auden jumped like she hadn't expected him to speak. "You need not fear them."

Those green eyes flicked once more at all the beings around her, then up at Sebastian. "Why are they afraid of _you?_ "

He chuckled. "I'm a demon."

She frowned. Of course, she had no idea what he was capable of, and probably had no idea what she herself was capable of. Her body was practically in pieces as it was, barely functioning on a human level, much less the supernatural.

Grelle finished the paperwork just as they reached the head of the line and only a moment later, they were summoned to one of the windows. She passed over the documentation for the training Scythe as well as a form to check out her own. The reaper behind the desk looked it over, then disappeared into the back rooms.

"You'd think we would have switched over to electronic by now," Grelle said, making a face down at Auden.

The desk reaper returned swiftly with the short, wooden-handled Scythe that would now temporarily belong to Auden. He handed it over the desk to Grelle and then disappeared to retrieve her chainsaw. Grelle offered the miniature sickle to Auden, and she took it with some measure of hesitation. Holding it away from her body, she ran a finger along the curve of the blade and then cursed as she broke the skin and drew blood. Grelle tsked.

"Well it _is_ sharp, don't be stupid. It just can't cut through everything, that's all. Ah, here we are…" Grelle's attention shifted when the other reaper returned coming through the back doors and hefted her Death Scythe up and onto the counter. She reclaimed it eagerly, lifting it much more easily than he had and turning it over in her hands.

"There it is, Ms. Sutcliff. Cleaned and polished and ready to go," the reaper said, wiping the beads of sweat from his brow.

"Oh, it's _beautiful_ , Geoffrey. Thank you."

Sebastian had never figured out exactly why it was, but Grelle never looked quite right without a running chainsaw in her hands. She propped the Death Scythe up on her shoulder and strolled away from the counter.

"Everything back in its natural order," she said, stopping to look back at him and Auden. "We can go now."

"What is _that?_ " Auden stared at the mammoth chainsaw, her mouth open a little in astonishment perhaps of how light the thing seemed in Grelle's hands.

"This is my _personal_ Death Scythe," Grelle replied, gushing a little though Sebastian could tell she was holding back. "Modified exactly to my specifications. You can get something a little more _you_ later on, too, once you meet the requirements."

Auden blinked. She did not look like she anticipated enjoying that particular prospect. In fact, she looked scared out of her mind, clutching the handle of her little wooden toy in a vice-grip and swallowing. Grelle didn't seem to notice.

"It's a good thing we drove today," she was saying as she wandered out of the Administrative office. "I wouldn't want to carry this thing on the train."


	4. Homecomings

They lived in Mayfair now. Before Mayfair it had been Camden, not far from King's Cross, but then the photography studio had taken off again and they could afford to live a little better than their aliases had previously allowed, though they'd never wanted for anything. Old money.

The neighborhood was a quiet one, almost too quiet for taste, but he supposed that he'd gotten used to it. Grown soft in a sense, but then, that was what life did to a person, wasn't it? Toned you down or turned you up? He and Grelle had grown quiet, too. That was all. Not unlike Mayfair in that sense. He could still remember the time it had been open field, market, and prop house slums filled with gypsies and thieves—a wild, dangerous place. Until a rich man bought the land, built houses on it, made it respectable. The same thing had happened to him.

Sebastian parked the car in its space on the street in front of the house and got out. Grelle followed, retrieving her chainsaw out of the backseat. Only Auden stayed in the car, staring up at the house through her window. They'd gone straight home, Grelle having insisted that Auden eat something home-cooked and not take out for her first meal with them. Sebastian knocked on the window and she jumped.

"Let's go," he said.

She emerged, clutching her Death Scythe to her body and craning her neck as she looked around. Probably she hadn't seen the outside of Dispatch since she got there.

"We're this one here," Grelle said, gesturing at their front door. "The red brick."

Nine Charles Street, London—an elegant red brick façade nestled between the grey and white of its much wider neighbors. A handsome building at the handsome price of thirty-nine and a half million pounds. It was no Phantomhive Manor, but all the same, the fact that they could afford the price tag did make Sebastian proud.

Auden was still struck. "This…is where you _live?_ "

"It looks small on the outside, dear, but I promise there's plenty of room." Grelle put her key in the lock, turned it twice and then punched in the code on the pad beside the door. "There's a few guest rooms, so you can take your pick, make it yours."

Auden turned her gaze to the ground. Grelle removed her key, waited for the door to open, still talking.

"It's just a few minutes' walk to the Tube station and Hyde Park is down the street, so you'll have plenty to do and see when you're ready. St. James's Park is close as well."

Auden began to shake.

Sebastian frowned. "Grelle."

"I assume you don't have any clothes or anything, so we can go shopping tomorrow if you like. Oh, and we'll need to get you a pass for the train, obviously, so you don't have to bother with tickets all the time. We'll have to get you ID for that."

" _Grelle_."

"That won't be—hm? What?"

She finally had the door open and as she turned round, finally noticed the state Auden was in—trembling all over like she'd been possessed. Grelle dropped her chainsaw inside immediately and hurried to Auden, but the girl shied away.

"Auden, what's wrong? Are you all right?"

A dark laugh slipped out of the girl's lips. "I've lost my mind. I've lost my bloody mind. What is this? Is this hell? Am I being punished? This is all a dream. It's a dream. I'm dead and I'm dreaming."

"Auden—"

Grelle reached out to her, but even such a small gesture was too much. Gasping, Auden turned and bolted but she didn't make it far before fatigue caught up with her and she fainted, falling to the pavement. Clicking her tongue nervously, Grelle moved swiftly down the street and picked her up, carrying her back to the front door.

"This is going to be a lot more difficult than I imagined," she grumbled and Sebastian followed her inside.


	5. Auden

When Auden awoke, there was a smell. A nice smell, a warm smell. A soup smell. Her eyelids fluttered open, to take in information on her surroundings. A plush bed supported her body, which felt ridiculously weak, and an even plusher pillow supported her head, which was even weaker than her body. She rolled over, following her nose, and discovered a bowl of soup and sleeve of crackers on the bedside table. Steam wafted up from the bowl. It smelled wonderful—and like chicken noodle. Her favorite. Her stomach turned at the sight of food, starving.

She sat up slowly, favoring her right arm. A bandage covered her elbow, which she'd scraped when she'd fainted, and she inspected it, but it seemed genuine enough. Since she'd died, those two who had taken her in had been the only ones to treat her like a human being—or reaper or whatever it was she was now—and while it should have comforted her, it only made her more suspicious of them.

Taking the bowl of soup into her lap, she blew the steam off its surface and wondered if this was how they were going to poison her. The thought caused her some hesitation, but her stomach won out in the end by letting out an enormous growl. If it _was_ poisoned, what did she care anyway? Didn't she _want_ to be dead?

She picked up the sleeve of crackers and a note she had not noticed fell off the top of them. Reaching over, she picked it up as well.

In red ink it said:

 _Hello, there~! Good morning, sort of! The soup should still be hot when you wake up. If not just bring it down and we can fix that. Please eat. There's a bathroom connected to your room, fully stocked, so feel free to take a shower or a bath. When you're ready, if you want to come down, Sebastian and I will just be in the kitchen. If not, go ahead and sleep and I'll wake you in the morning. Feel better! Grelle~_

Auden glanced over to an open door across the room that as far as she could tell without those dumbass glasses on did actually go into a bathroom. Squinting was already giving her another headache on top of the one she was feeling, so she grabbed the glasses and slipped them reluctantly onto her face. Yep, it was a bathroom.

She ate the soup slowly, savoring every spoonful. It was the first thing she'd eaten in weeks having gone on a hunger strike during her confinement. She'd been skinny before that, but the lack of nutrition really had put her over the edge. The soup was pretty damn good and she polished off the sleeve of crackers to boot.

Lying back down, Auden stared at the ceiling, at the glittery light in the middle of it. That black fear and guilt began creeping back into her heart, making her shake. What was she _doing_ here? She couldn't remember any of the things those people with the green eyes had told her when they'd held her in that room. She _could_ remember looking at herself in a mirror—seeing her gaunt face, her pale skin, her own glowing eyes. This was not what she had wanted. Not at all…

Her throat tightened and, not wanting to cry, she hurled herself out of bed and into the bathroom, digging around through the cabinets until she found what she needed for a shower. A t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants were sitting on the bathroom counter, apparently for her. She hurled the toiletry bottles into the shower, threw off her clothes, and got in, turning the water on so hot that it scalded her skin. Her eyes welled up, and she pretended that was why.

* * *

Clean, but still hungry, Auden finally decided to wander down to the kitchen Grelle had mentioned in her note. Half of her wanted to be alone, the other half dreaded it—and apparently the half that dreaded it was also the half that was hungry, so that one was the winner in the end. She wrapped her hair up in a towel, put on the clothes that had been left for her, and tucked a comb into her back pocket before grabbing the empty bowl and spoon and creeping out of her room to look for the stairs.

They were easy enough to find even though the house was somewhat dark. The sun had set while she'd been out. She went down a few flights before she found a light on, just down the hall, and heard voices.

"…making that face you make when you say you don't care but you actually do. You think I don't know that face?"

"I'm trying to do too many things at once, Grelle, that's all."

"Uh-huh."

Auden stepped carefully toward the light, trying to make as little noise as possible. She wasn't ready to talk yet, wasn't ready to be greeted. She just wanted to observe a moment, and so hovered in the darkness near the open doorframe that entered the kitchen. She could see Grelle—damn her hair was _red_ , wasn't it?—sitting on top of the counter, looking at something on a tablet, though Auden couldn't see what. Sebastian worked next to her, sometimes visible, sometimes not, prepping a hell of a lot of food. She glanced at the bowl in her hands.

"Answer me honestly, _do_ you like this layout for the venue?" Grelle held up the tablet and Auden got the feeling it was not the first time she'd done so recently by the way she rolled her eyes.

Sebastian didn't even look at it. "No."

" _Thank_ you. That's what I thought. I'll email Madge back and tell her to come up with something else."

"Do _you_ like the layout?"

"Yes, but I wouldn't mind changing it."

"Now _you're_ lying."

"I am not."

"You think _I_ don't know _that_ face?"

Sebastian was moving back and forth between the set of counters rapidly as they spoke and Grelle tracked him with her eyes, eventually reaching out and catching hold of his collar which she used to pull him toward her.

"Hey," she said, serious, "you sure you want to do this?"

They looked at each other for a moment, Grelle with her eyebrows raised. Eventually Sebastian sighed.

"Of course I do, Grelle, I'm just not in a mood to deal with it right now."

"I've stressed you out."

"You're not the only stressor on my list…"

He tried to go back to work, but Grelle kept hold of him. He gave her a look and it made her laugh.

"You need to relax, Sebastian," she said, putting her arms around him. "Let's take me off the list of stressors, hm?"

She leaned forward and kissed his neck and for a moment Sebastian looked a little irritated, but Grelle was persistent, pressing kisses in a methodical fashion up his neck and across his face so that by the time she'd reached his lips, he had relaxed and was ready to kiss her back.

How did they do that when Grelle had those teeth?

The spoon slid round in the bowl Auden was holding in her hands and clattered to the floor. She went stiff. Grelle pulled back from Sebastian and looked in the direction of the noise.

"Auden's at the door," Sebastian said.

"For how long?"

"A few minutes."

"And you didn't tell me?!"

Grelle hopped off the counter, red-faced and flustered, saying, "I'm sorry, Auden, I didn't know you were there," as she headed swiftly for the door. Sebastian made a grab at her and she yelped, swatting his hand away. " _Stop_ it, Sebastian! You're not helping."

Sebastian laughed and the whole scene brought half a smile to Auden's face. Just as it began to fade, Grelle's shadow cast by the light from the kitchen fell over her.

"How are you feeling?" she asked softly. "I'm sorry if I frightened you earlier. I have a bad habit of coming on too strong."

Sebastian laughed again and Grelle tossed a glare over her shoulder. What an odd couple.

"I'm all right," Auden replied. "Still hungry."

"Well there's plenty more where the soup came from, unless you want something else?"

"No-no, the soup's fine—great. It was…really good actually."

Grelle smiled. "Come sit down then."

She stepped out of the way to allow Auden entrance to the kitchen, so Auden supposed she'd better go in. Grelle followed and cleared a little space for her on the counter at one of the barstools. Sebastian had gone back to work on the food. Auden felt the bowl begin to leave her hands and jumped back, startled by Grelle who had taken it from her.

"It's all right," she said. "Sit down. I'll get you a new spoon."

Auden swallowed, carefully lifting herself to sit down on the barstool while Grelle went to the stove top and fished a ladle out of a large silver pot and poured more of the soup into the bowl. Then she grabbed a spoon from one of the drawers and passed it and the bowl back to Auden.

"Thanks."

Grelle nodded and was quiet, taking a seat at the end of the counter, and not right next to her thankfully. Auden started in on the second bowl of soup.

"What's all the food for?" she asked.

"Clients," Sebastian replied.

"Sebastian runs a photography studio and we're hosting a party there tomorrow. He refuses to have anything catered, so he does it all himself." Grelle made a face to punctuate her sentence that made her feelings on the matter very clear.

"Why should I pay someone else to do a job which I could do better and faster?" Sebastian asked, working at a pace which seemed inhuman—which it was, actually, now that Auden thought about it.

"So you don't drop dead before you've finished, that's why," Grelle replied.

The screen on Grelle's tablet lit up. Auden looked her way but she hadn't noticed. Auden looked back—it was a message notification from a contact labeled "Grumpy" with a bamboo stick emoji next to it.

"Catering my own party isn't going to kill me, Grelle," Sebastian returned.

The tablet lit up again with another notification. Auden glanced at Grelle. "Um…"

"You're the one who said he had a list of stressors."

"That's not what I said."

"Yes it is."

"You're, um…you got a message."

Grelle looked her way. "Hm?"

Auden pointed at the tablet.

"Oh! Thank you."

Grelle slid from the stool and went around the other side of the counter. When she picked up the tablet she groaned immediately and the groan turned into words:

"It's Will. I'm the only one with a Death Scythe checked out who's not on duty, and something's come up. I have to go."

Auden started. "Wait, what?"

Grelle tapped a quick message back and grabbed her coat from the table on the other side of the kitchen. She really was leaving. She couldn't do that. Frightening as she was, Auden was far more comfortable around Grelle—they, they were the same. She didn't want to be alone with a demon.

Grelle slipped her coat on as she headed for the doorway. "I'll be back."

"Duty calls," Sebastian said and gave her a quick goodbye kiss as she went by him.

"Bye. Love you."

"Don't get killed."

Grelle laughed. "I'll try my best." She paused in the doorway and blew a kiss. "See you later, Auden. Don't wait up." Then—like that—she was gone.

Auden felt her pulse quicken. "Wait—where is she going?"

"Where she's needed," Sebastian replied. "That is the life of Shinigami."

"When will she be back?"

Sebastian shrugged. "When she's done."

She looked at him, swallowed. She—he—she was alone with a demon. What would he do to her? She didn't know much about demons, just that she guessed they weren't the kind of thing you wanted to be around very often. Or at all. But then, he didn't do anything—or even react. He just kept right on with his cooking. A lot of desserts, apparently.

He looked so busy that after a while watching him Auden felt like she ought to be doing something herself, so she dug the comb out of her pocket and carefully shook her hair out of its towel. She hadn't brushed it before she'd gotten in the shower. She hadn't brushed it in weeks. Grimacing, she lifted the comb to her head and it instantly stuck.

Bugger.

She pulled and it hurt—a little, nipped-off gasp tumbling out of her lips.

"Let me."

Before she could say no or really knew what was going on, Sebastian was behind her and had taken the comb out of her hands and untangled it from the mess of snarls on top of her head. And before she could take the comb back and push him away, he had begun to work it through her hair with such a gentle hand that it surprised her out of her objection.

"Thanks," she mumbled.

He didn't reply. He just kept combing. She almost couldn't feel the pull on her hair at all. In fact, it was kind of…relaxing. Soothing, really. She began to drift off, but then reality came calling and she jolted back to it. A demon was combing her hair. Silence was suddenly insufferable.

"So, um…how long have you and Grelle been together?"

Auden didn't know what else to talk about. And she certainly wasn't going to talk about herself, but now that she'd started talking she was sorry she had. Sebastian didn't seem to mind the silence and she'd gone and ruined it. All the same, he answered her question.

"One hundred and twenty-five years this May."

"Oh." That was a long time. "Wow."

"She wants to celebrate."

"And you don't?"

He laughed a little at the question. "I don't mind."

That felt like a good place to quit the conversation. He didn't seem like the type who would keep talking if she wasn't asking questions, so she just shut up and let him comb her hair. What was Grelle up to right then? Whatever it was Auden herself would probably have to be up to it as well at some point in the near future. She and Grelle were Shinigami, grim reapers, whatever that entailed. And they'd gotten here through suicide. Words tumbled from her mouth before she realized what she was asking.

"How did Grelle do it?"

"Do what?"

She could still feel the scratch of that rope around her neck. She couldn't take the question back now.

"Kill herself?"

Sebastian looked down at her and she could tell that the silence which followed was not hesitation on his part. Eventually he said, "That is a question for Grelle."

"You don't know?"

"I've never asked her," he replied. "But I know."

He finished with her hair and passed the comb back. Carefully she took it from him.

"Thanks."

"You could do with a trim."


	6. Second Homecomings

He sensed Grelle coming down the street long before she ever reached the house, so he was downstairs ready to greet her when she came through the front door covered in blood.

"That yours?" he asked.

She pulled a pose on the foyer rug and grinned. "Not today!"

He laughed and watched her with hungry eyes as she set her chainsaw down next to the door and tsked at it, probably thinking how she just had it cleaned. The thing _was_ murder to detail. He would have been frustrated too, had it been him, but he just couldn't get over all that beautiful _blood_ —the gorgeous red streaks that lined her face and lips. He stepped toward her.

"You know, I love it when you look like this."

Grelle grinned. "I _do_ know. Why do you think I come home instead of showering off at Dispatch like everybody else?"

He wrapped his arms around her. "You're wicked."

"You're disgusting."

He laughed and kissed her, and kissed her again, she kissed him, and so it continued. Even as they embraced, he still could not comprehend how madly he loved Grelle. All he could say was it had been a century and then some and he still wasn't finished with her. He didn't think he ever could be. She knew him too well, knew what he liked, was so bold. They'd built a life together—a surprisingly _human_ life, but he would hold onto it. Come hell or high water, he would hold on.

Drawing in a breath, Grelle parted from him. She looked him over and laughed a little to herself, wiping the blood now on his face away with her gloved fingers. "I've made a mess of you, too," she said.

He pressed his mouth to hers once more, firmly, in reply.

"Mm. My feet are tired. Carry me upstairs?"

She batted her eyelashes at him and he chuckled, shaking his head but lifting her straight up all the same and turning round to go up the steps. Grelle put her arms around his neck, contented.

"How's Auden?" she asked, looking down at him.

"Asleep."

"Good. Will you watch her tonight?"

"That's what I've been doing, up to now."

"Hm, what would I do without you?" She brushed her fingers through his hair and they reached the top of the stairs so he set her down and she started right off for their room, pulling her gloves from her hands and unbuttoning her jacket. When she reached the room, she tossed the clothes on the bed.

"We'll have to dry clean those," she said and she slipped her shoes off. "How'd the food come out?"

"I can wash them, and the food came out fine."

"I'll take them to the cleaners, you have too much to do already. You said so yourself." She laughed at the face he made when she went by him to put her shoes away. Having done so, she hovered in the closet. "I'm going to get in the shower. You done with me?"

He tilted his head at her. "No, but I could spend hours."

She smiled coyly and headed for the bathroom, but paused in front of him on her way and draped her arms around his neck.

"You _are_ disgusting."

"I'm a demon."

"And I love you for it."

He looked at her, at the streaks of dried blood that ran down her face and neck and several thousand thoughts ran through his mind at once. One stood out from the others, and that was that he still wanted her— _her,_ this bizarre spectacle of a person—more than anything else he'd ever wanted in the world.

Her hair fell away from her face as she cocked her head at him. "What's that look?"

"I _love you_ , Grelle Sutcliff."

His words seemed to take her back for a moment and she examined his face, resting a hand against his cheek. "You don't say that very often."

He took the hand in his, pressed a kiss onto her palm. "I mean it."

"I know you do."

She kissed him and he held her for a moment longer when she started to pull away. When she did step back from him and head for the bathroom, she smiled at him out of one hundred and twenty-five years. Beautiful creature.

While she turned the water on and got in the shower, he sat down on the bed and looked over her bloodied jacket. He could clean it. He'd do it when she went to sleep.

"What did Will need?" he asked.

"There was a large number of souls scheduled for collection tonight, all right in the same spot, a building collapse on an abandoned construction site with a homeless population—and Ronald thought he could handle it himself, but then a group of demons showed up and things got ugly, so."

"Ah." He smiled to himself. By ugly she meant fun.

She continued, " _But_ I made it very clear to him that I'm not available tomorrow at _all_ , since we've got that party at the gallery, and I told him I am absolutely not missing it. And if Auden wants, I think I'll take her shopping."

"Aren't you supposed to be training her?"

"She look ready for training to you? I'm _supposed_ to be helping her. The last thing that little girl needs is a Death Scythe in her hands. Even a practice one."

Sebastian conceded the point by bowing his head. Grelle was right after all. Auden did give off a general aura of instability, though he wasn't sure shopping would be a suitable way to cure it.

"Something's not right with her," he said.

"Well, of course not. She wants to be _dead_ , Sebastian. And instead she wound up here. It's terrifying. I know how she feels."

From the bed, he glanced over at the open bathroom door, at Grelle's blurred figure behind the frosted glass of the shower. She was so rarely vulnerable about what she was, the position she occupied in the world. They had talked many times about many things, but the topic of Grelle's time post-transformation into Shinigami had never really come up. He could hardly imagine Grelle afraid of anything, let alone what she now considered wholeheartedly to be her calling.

"What changes?" he asked.

"Nothing changes," she replied. "You break to it or you don't. For me it became fun, for others it's a means of redemption. Why do you think everyone else is so serious all the time?"

She turned off the water and stuck her arm out of the shower door to grab her towel. She liked to dry off in the shower itself because the steam was still contained a little and it wasn't as cold. Eventually she emerged and crossed once again to the closet.

"All clean!"

"How disappointing."

She laughed and put on the little silky dress she called pajamas before coming to sit next to him on the bed, toweling her hair.

"I _did_ ask if you were done," she said.

"Hm. And you showered off anyway."

She was braiding her hair now, but leaned forward to give him a peck on the cheek. "I'm sorry, love." Finished, she tied off the end of the braid with a rubber band.

"It's all right." He got up so she could pull the sheets back and climb into bed. "I know you're tired."

"You always know."

He sat beside her and she pulled the covers up to her throat.

"Stay until I fall asleep?"

"Of course, my love."

She shut her eyes and he brushed his fingers across her forehead. He would stay forever.

* * *

 _Author's Note: Hello, dear readers! I'm so happy to see that you've made it this far. I hope you are enjoying this little story. If you like what you see, and want more of Sebastian and Grelle, feel free to check out the other story on my profile. Bless you all, and happy reading!_


	7. Near Invisible Scars

Grelle awoke to the most _horrific_ screaming—and not the good kind. She sat up like a rocket, and then was startled _again_ by Sebastian, who was just sitting there watching her like some kind of murderer, a black hulking shadow against the headboard.

"Jesus _Christ_ , Sebastian!" She nearly toppled out of bed. "You scared the hell out of me." Suddenly, Grelle remembered why she'd woken up. "You're _supposed_ to be watching her," she scolded, throwing back the covers and scrambling to her feet.

"You've only been asleep for five minutes."

"Oh." She glanced at the clock. "Sorry."

He shrugged. The screaming continued. There wasn't time for a robe.

Grelle went barreling down the stairs to the second level and slipped as she turned the corner down the hall. Luckily Sebastian was right behind her to steady her fall and together the two of them kept moving until they reached Auden's door. That girl was wailing away in there like she was being stabbed repeatedly. After glancing at Sebastian, Grelle cracked open the door.

The screams grew louder. Through the darkness Grelle could just make out a shape on the bed, all knotted up in a single sheet and writhing in agony. She was having a nightmare, choking and gasping, no—she was awake. This was something else.

"Auden?"

Grelle had spoken softly, but the sound did catch Auden's attention and her face appeared as she looked toward the door. Tears streaked her cheeks, twisted in a mask of misery, and when she saw them standing in the doorway a whole new kind of sobbing took over. A groan shredded out of her throat. Grelle was over there in an instant.

"Auden. Auden, honey. Calm down—hey. Calm down."

She stroked her hair, but it did nothing. Auden began to tremble, rocking back and forth and writhing. Grelle tried to hold her down, keep her still, but it wasn't working. Auden continued to slice the air with her screams. Grelle looked back at Sebastian.

"What do I do?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Hell if I know."

She looked back at Auden. "Auden, _breathe._ You need to breathe. It's all right."

Suddenly, Auden shot up and shot backwards, pinning her back to the headboard and glaring at Grelle with a look that could kill if she'd been able to shoot laser beams out her eyes.

"It is _not_ all right," she spat, literally spitting. Her skin was pallid and sweaty, her features still remarkably gaunt, though her hair did look better. Sebastian must have brushed it— _no,_ that wasn't the point. Grelle reached for her and she shrieked, pressing herself against the headboard like she was intent to travel through it.

"Auden! You need to relax. You'll make yourself sick."

Right on cue, the chicken noodle soup made its reappearance when Auden threw up all over the bed in front of her.

"Well what did I say?"

Exhausted, Auden slumped against the headboard and quiet sobs took over, shivering her shoulders in pathetic little motions. Grelle scooted up next to her and took her into her arms. Auden consented this time and let herself be held.

"Sweetie…sweetie…just breathe, all right? Just breathe."

Grelle stroked her hair. After some time Auden's breathing began to steady, though it was by no means stable. Grelle looked at Sebastian and made a face and he made one back at her that was just as dumbfounded. Grelle paused in her petting to look down at her pet.

"Hey, how about some fresh air, hm? Let's go outside for a little bit."

Auden lifted her head just enough to look at Grelle and nod weakly, so she helped her off the bed and supported her as they headed for the door—though it wasn't much work, she was so skinny.

"Sebastian, will you get my robe, please? And clean up the bed?"

He didn't need telling twice—giving a nod and departing the room immediately. Grelle ushered Auden up the stairs and out onto the balcony that overlooked the backyard, bringing her to a loveseat and sitting her down. Sebastian reappeared then and held out her robe. She took it from him.

"Thank you, love."

"I'll make tea."

Grelle nodded and he departed again. She made sure Auden was settled back against the cushions before putting on her robe and taking her once again under her wing. Shivering, the girl nestled her head against Grelle's shoulder and sniffed.

"Now, what got you so worked up, hm?" She rubbed her shoulder, but received no response, so she rested her head on top of Auden's. "…just talk when you're ready."

Auden was quiet for a very long time. Several cars went by on the street, but it was Mayfair, and Monday, and the middle of the night. Mostly everything was as quiet as she was. But Grelle was patient. A breeze blew by and was cold on her wet hair. Sebastian came back with a tray before Auden had said anything.

"How's your stomach? You want tea?" Grelle asked.

Auden nodded and Grelle helped her to sit forward while Sebastian poured. He held the cup and saucer out to her and the girl took it from him so carefully, like she was taking a bone away from a Doberman. Sebastian poured a cup for Grelle and held it out to her as well.

"Thank you." She sat back against the cushions and laughed. "Sebastian's had lots of practice, so he makes a great cup of tea."

Auden had lifted the cup to her lips and glanced over its rim at Grelle before taking a sip. She still didn't say anything, but she _did_ drink deeply and the warmth seemed to relax her.

"Good?" Sebastian asked, looking at Grelle.

Grelle nodded. "Yes. Thank you."

"I'll be back in a moment."

He left the teapot and tray and the two of them on the balcony, probably to go and change the sheets on Auden's bed. Grelle sipped at her own cup, trying not to look at Auden, trying not to push her and be too overbearing. She looked out over the rows of houses of neighbors, over their little backyard.

"I don't—"

Grelle looked over and Auden stopped herself. Oh, how badly Grelle just wanted to _smother_ her—or smack her, make her spit it out, she wasn't sure which—but she bit back the urge and just waited, smiling, looking like what she assumed was supportive. A minute or so passed before Auden drew in a breath and spoke again.

"I don't want to be here."

"Hm? What do you mean?" Here on the balcony? In Mayfair with herself and Sebastian? London? England in general?

"I want to be _dead_."

Oh. That. "I know, darling, but you can't be. This is just how it is."

"Why?"

Grelle laughed. "I don't know. I know as much as you in that regard."

"But you—you're _happy_."

"I wasn't always."

Auden looked at her lap, trembled. Grelle put a hand on her knee.

"It gets better, Auden. It really does."

The girl shook her head, disbelieving. Grelle could hardly blame her. Being a reaper _was_ , technically, supposed to be punishment—collecting souls and watching death day in day out in exchange for taking your own life. The universe was rather cruel, wasn't it? How was Auden supposed to cope with it? Grelle had been nearly twice her age when she'd become a Shinigami and _that_ had been hard. She couldn't imagine doing it at fourteen.

"Grelle?"

"Hm?"

"How did _you_ do it?"

What a bold question. "Kill myself?"

Auden nodded.

"I took the pink bath."

Rolling up her sleeves, Grelle held out her arms to show her the near-invisible scars that zigzagged down from each wrist. "I thought it was rather noble at the time. Very Roman."

Auden nodded, processing. What a grim kid. Probably she'd make an excellent Shinigami, once she got over the screaming and crying and puking. Grelle thought she might share how _she'd_ done it, but instead she just asked another question.

"Why?"

Bold again. "Oh, lots of reasons. It's never just one thing, is it? It's lots of little things, and they pile up and up and up until you think you're going to fall over the brink and then— _tip._ One last thing and you actually do."

Auden nodded, contemplating the idea but Grelle could see her thoughts turn to all the reasons why _she_ had killed herself—whatever they may be—and her eyes drew back and went dark, blank. Grelle took her hand and she started.

"Whatever your life _was_ , Auden, that's gone now. Whatever you wanted to escape, you've escaped it. All right? Yes, you're still alive, and yes, this new life is scary and strange, but it _is_ a new life. You get to start over. I'll even overlook the fact that you tried to stab me with a spoon."

Auden's eyes flashed up at her, guilty, but Grelle smiled back and her expression softened. She even smiled a little herself, but it was soon replaced by sadness.

"I know you can't forget what happened to you," Grelle said, "and you shouldn't, but you _can_ move forward. That's what I'm here to help you do, all right?"

Auden nodded, wiping tears from one eye. "All right."

Grelle smiled. "Good. You just relax. Drink your tea."

* * *

Auden did, eventually, calm down and Grelle helped her back down to her room and the clean new sheets Sebastian had made up the bed with. All those years as a butler had certainly made him one hell of a housekeeper, for which Grelle was endlessly grateful, not being so hot at all that domestic stuff herself.

Auden crawled into bed and completely collapsed. Poor little thing was pooped. She shut her eyes and was almost instantly asleep. Grelle sat down beside her and brushed her hair away from her face. The movement took a little of the tension out of Auden's shoulders, so Grelle continued to stroke her hair. A few minutes later, Auden was asleep.

"I'm going to stay here tonight," Grelle whispered to Sebastian. "I don't want to leave her alone."

"What are we going to do with her tomorrow?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"I suppose she'll have to come with us."

"Is she well enough for that?"

Grelle frowned. "What else can we do? I wouldn't trust her to anyone else but you, and we're both going to be at the gallery. She can't stay here by herself."

"Why isn't she healing?"

"She is. Look."

Grelle carefully lifted one of Auden's arms into the air and Sebastian came over to inspect it. There wasn't much to sneeze at, but it _did_ look like she had a bit more meat on her bones than when they'd left Dispatch. She must have refused food for weeks to get her immortal body in _this_ condition.

Grelle sighed as she looked at her. "I'm sorry, Sebastian."

"For what?"

"For doing this to you."

"Doing what?"

Grelle gestured at Auden. "This."

"Actually, I like her."

What? Shocked, Grelle looked up at him, her mouth open. He _liked_ her? Grelle wasn't even sure if _she_ liked her. She could empathize, obviously, and Auden needed her—oh, it was nice to be needed—but mostly the kid had been kind of a pain in the ass and Sebastian, who hated children in general, was claiming he _liked_ her? What world was this?

" _What?_ "

"I mean she's obviously damaged, and sort of a little shit, but I like her. Much more than I thought I would."

Grelle blinked. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "I'm sorry, did someone hit you on the head? Were you abducted by aliens? What have you done with the real Sebastian?"

He laughed. "I'm serious."

"You _like_ her?"

"Yes."

" _Her?_ "

He laughed again. "Yes, Grelle. I like her."

Dumbfounded, Grelle just stared out over the room. "Well, that's good, then." She never would have thought she'd hear that from _Sebastian_. Then again, it was possible he'd missed having a small someone to take care of, though that didn't seem likely. She rested back against the headboard and shut her eyes. What a miserable long day. She'd never fall asleep like this.

"Go upstairs and sleep, Grelle. I'll stay up with her."

Could he read minds or something? She cracked open an eye to tell him no, that she was determined to stay, but a yawn caught her and her neck ached and all she wanted to do was go to bed. Auden would be safe with Sebastian.

"Thanks, love."

"No trouble. I'd be awake anyway."

Grelle eased herself off the bed, careful not to wake Auden and stretched once she was free. She was so stiff she might not even make it up the stairs.

"Goodnight, then. I'll see you in the morning."

Sebastian nodded and sat on the end of the bed. "I'll be here."

She walked over to him, placed her hands over his shoulders and he looked up at her expectantly, taking one of her hands in his own and waiting for her to speak.

"You _like_ her?"

Sebastian laughed and pushed her toward the door. "Go to bed."


	8. The Following Morning

According to the clock, it was well past noon when Auden finally woke up. Almost one, in fact. She hadn't slept so long in—well, _ever_. She sat up and stretched and looked around her, at what was now _her_ room. It was… _nice_. _Really_ nice. Yesterday Grelle had mistaken her apprehension about the house for thinking it looked small, but really the whole thing had just seemed way too, oh she didn't know, _fancy_ for her. She hadn't been anywhere so nice in—well, ever.

Her stomach growled. She'd eaten too much last night and then had lost it all anyway during her panic attack. But she _did_ notice as she climbed out of bed that she felt stronger, and when she looked at her arms they didn't look quite as thin. There was no note on her bedside table, but she was keen to explore the house, and could very easily do so under the pretense of looking for Sebastian and Grelle. First, though, _food_.

Auden tromped her way down to the kitchen, pushing her hair, which felt somehow softer, continually out of her eyes. She _did_ need a trim.

The kitchen was easy enough to find a second time and, though she figured she probably shouldn't have been surprised, so was Sebastian, who was in there messing with all that food again. He looked up and smiled when she lingered in the doorway.

"Ah, good morning," he said. "You slept well, I hope?"

Auden nodded, coming in and sitting down at the counter. He'd paused in his work to pay attention to her, so she shrank back, as she always did when people gave her their attention, and tried to look small and insignificant.

"Breakfast?" he asked.

She nodded again. "Um, yes, please."

Out of nowhere he produced a bowl of oatmeal. Auden blinked at it. She hadn't had oatmeal since she was a kid. Where had that come from? Did she _look_ like a kid to him?

"Something easy on your stomach," he said.

"Oh."

Probably she did look like a kid. He'd said he and Grelle had been together for, what? A hundred and twenty-five years? So he had to be _at least_ that old, but definitely older. And she was fourteen—practically a baby by comparison. Picking up the spoon, Auden started apprehensively in on the oatmeal while Sebastian went back to work. She was— _damn._ It was really good. She wiped the look of surprise and delight off her face just as Sebastian turned around to address her again.

"Grelle figured it was best to let you sleep, so I'm afraid she went shopping without you," he said, packing away a tray of cakes into a complicated looking container, "though you don't look much like the shopping type to me."

"It's not my favorite," Auden replied, quietly.

"I didn't think so. Either way, she'll be back any minute. With plenty for you to approve, I'm sure." He moved the container to another counter where several others just like it were stacked up. "Ah, here she is."

Several seconds later, Grelle came clacking into the kitchen on a pair of heels as equally complicated as Sebastian's plastic boxes, tucking a handful of receipts into a handbag. Once again, Auden was struck by how _red_ her hair was, particularly since it was off-set by a dark green crepe shirt. Very Christmas-y, actually.

"Looks like you're just about done," she said to Sebastian and then, "Good morning, Auden." She looked her way and smiled. Auden ducked her head down.

"Good morning," she mumbled.

"This is the last of it," Sebastian replied. "I'll take it down and after that it's out of my hands."

"Even though you wish it wasn't," Grelle countered and patted his face to shut him up when he tried to protest. She came over and stood across the counter from Auden. "I've got a lot for you to look through, Auden, but there's no rush. I didn't know what you liked, so it was kind of point-and-shoot. Whatever you don't want we can return. I didn't want to carry it all, so sent it up in the elevator."

Somewhere down the hall, an elevator dinged. Grelle's face lit up along with it.

"There it is!"

She scurried away and Auden watched her go. It seemed to her that if Grelle could lift that ridiculous chainsaw, she could carry a few shopping bags up the stairs, but when she saw her return with both arms hung with bags from shoulder to wrist, two more enormous bunches in either hand, a few in her teeth, and scooting the rest of it across the floor she figured the elevator probably wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Grelle dropped the bags from her mouth down on the counter. "Here we are," she chimed.

Sebastian was laughing at the sight of her. "What on _earth,_ Grelle?"

"Well she doesn't _have_ anything," Grelle replied, shedding the bags from her arms. "So we have to build an entire wardrobe, and since I didn't know her style or what she liked, I figured better safe than sorry. Though I may have overdone it."

" _May?_ "

"All right, I overdid it. What's it matter? Here, Auden. Let's get started…" She started to push the bags on the counter toward her, but Sebastian snatched them.

"Let her eat."

"Right, right! Sorry. I just get so _excited_." She silenced a squeal that tried to make an appearance, though Auden couldn't tell if it was for show. Grelle covered her mouth. "Sorry."

Sebastian shook his head and laughed to himself, becoming busy in tidying the kitchen while Grelle started pulling things out of the bags and organizing them into piles, humming to herself. Auden ate, and watched them. They seemed so _different_ from each other that she began to wonder how when half of marriages ended in divorce, these two weirdos had made it work for a hundred years.

Grelle had everything sorted in no time—a pile for long sleeved shirts, a pile for short sleeves shirts, a pile for pants, for jewelry, a pile for pretty much everything. It looked like there were shoes in boxes in some of the bags, and Auden noticed one full of underwear—something she hadn't even _thought_ of—which Grelle had thankfully not unpacked in front of Sebastian. She tucked her head down as she blushed.

"All right. Here we are. I didn't get any swimsuits though. It just didn't seem like something I could pick out myself."

But underwear was? Auden scraped the last of her oatmeal out of the bowl. "A swimsuit for what?"

"Oh, for the pool."

She nearly dropped the spoon. "There's a _pool?_ "

"Yes."

" _Where?_ "

"In the basement, obviously. Ah! I almost forgot. You need to choose which dress you want to wear for tonight!"

Auden paled. Dress? "Tonight?"

"The party? At the gallery? I'm sure I mentioned it…"

What party? What gallery? Auden couldn't remember much where either of those words was concerned, but as she looked at her last spoonful of oatmeal she remembered the food. That's what it was for—a party. A party which she was apparently expected to attend. Sebastian seemed to notice her distress.

"She doesn't want to leave you here alone," he said, "and I'm afraid Grelle always gets what she wants, so you'll have to come with us."

Grelle looked at her and grinned. "You'll love it. It'll be fun."

Auden looked down, swallowing. A party? What kind of party? She'd never really been invited to a party, and while this didn't technically count, since she'd been invited by default of being there at all, Grelle _did_ seem excited, and to want her to come in spite of it. All the same…she wasn't so sure.

Sebastian came to her aid. "You don't have to pick a dress if you don't want to."

Grelle frowned at him. "Yes she does, don't say things like that."

"Would you relax?" He looked at Auden. "I'm afraid you _will_ have to come with us, but it can be quiet if you want. My office will be closed, and if you would rather you can be there for the evening?"

Auden took in a breath. "No—no, I'd…" She'd never been to a party. "I'd like to. I'd like to go. And to pick out a dress."

"Ah! Perfect!" Grelle squealed and hauled the pile of long sleeved shirts into her arms. "Let's go up to your room and get started!" In a whip of red hair, she practically bolted from the room, leaving Auden with her mouth open.

"But you just set it all out down here…"

Grelle didn't seem to hear her, and continued her dash up the stairs, laughing wildly at nothing in particular and very nearly breaking out into song. Auden looked at Sebastian.

"This is just how she is," he said. "You'll have to try and get used to it."


	9. Gallery 154

The dress Auden had finally settled on was black, and as she stood and looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, maybe not all that bad. Long sleeved, and lace, that came up to her collarbone and covered her back and went almost all the way to her knee. Apparently Grelle had sensed her general preference for being covered up, since most of the clothing she'd brought home followed along the same lines. Auden had actually ended up keeping a lot of it, which had surprised her and pleased Grelle, so it was a win-win, she supposed.

She didn't know what to do with her hair though. Auden only knew two styles—down and ponytail, and no matter which her bangs were going to fall into her eyes, and she figured neither was going to be fancy enough for this event. She decided on ponytail after mentally flipping a coin.

Someone knocked on the door while she was running the brush through her hair, so she called, "Come in!" not wanting to let go and start all over. Sebastian opened the door and looked in, entering the room once he spotted her in the bathroom. He was dressed in a black suit and tie and looking unspeakably handsome.

"Grelle's nearly ready. She sent me down to check on you," he said. "How's it coming?"

"Fine."

The brush slipped in her hand and she whacked herself on the forehead with it. Sebastian laughed and she blushed and he came in and took it from her for the second time in as many days.

"Have you decided on a name for yourself?" he asked, meeting her eye in the mirror as he brushed her hair and separated it into sections.

"I think I'd like to be Melissa." It had been her mother's name.

"Melissa? All right."

"And you're just still Sebastian?"

He smiled. "For now. Only the last name is different."

She nodded. While they'd gone through all the clothes she'd bought, Grelle had explained the whole alias situation to Auden. She and Sebastian kept different identities in order to live where they did and for Sebastian to work. Constance and Sebastian Seymour were their current characters, and they'd suggested that Auden take on a new name as well and play Grelle's niece. Or Constance's niece, or whatever.

"How's that?"

Auden looked up into the mirror. Oh. Wow. She actually looked…kind of… _pretty_. Where did Sebastian learn to do that? She turned her head side to side to get a look at her whole face and the elaborate up-do her hair had been magic-ed into.

"It's, um…really nice…thank you."

"You're welcome." He handed the brush back to her.

There was a knock and Grelle peeked in through the open door. "Ready?" she chirped.

Auden and Sebastian looked over at her and she came in instantaneously, squealing per the norm, and taking Auden's hands in her own the second she reached her.

"Auden, you look absolutely _beautiful!_ "

Well, Auden wasn't so sure about _that_ , particularly stacked up against Grelle who was unfairly glamorous with all that red hair gathered on top of her head to match her lipstick and stand out against her pale skin and the short, black silk dress she had on. The fabric draped down a deep U-shape in the back and a little silver chain hung across it with a short strand of crystals that dripped down her spine in the middle. Auden wished, looking at her, that she'd been a little more daring in her choice of dress though she knew deep down she wouldn't have had the guts.

"Hang on—you just need one more thing!" Grelle hurried out of the room, but was back in a matter of seconds with a handful of short strands of red pearls, which formed a rather beautiful necklace when she held it out to Auden by either end.

"Here," she said.

Carefully Auden took the necklace from her and fastened it around the back of her neck. Looking up into the mirror, she saw herself beside Sebastian and Grelle, all of them in black, Sebastian with his red eyes, Grelle with her red hair, and Auden with the pearls. Her heart swelled a little in her chest. She'd never felt like she belonged anywhere before.

Grelle smiled at her in the mirror and gave her shoulder a little squeeze. "Perfect."

Sebastian nodded. "I'll go get the car."

* * *

They left early in order to arrive early so Sebastian could make sure everything was exactly how he wanted it. There was a good hour or so before the party was actually supposed to start, and he parked the car quite a ways down the block to leave the spaces near the studio and gallery open for the guests. Thankfully, walking in heels was easier than Auden remembered. It must have had something to do with being a reaper.

"All right, Auden," Grelle said, catching her hand from behind and tugging her back to walk with her along the sidewalk. Sebastian continued on ahead at a much swifter pace. "I'm not sure if this will involve you or not, so here's the thing—if Sebastian asks you to do something, just do it. And don't tell him you don't think you can. That's worse."

Grelle made a face like she'd learned that the hard way.

Auden tried to nod. "Um, okay."

"Good. From here on out, you're Melissa and I'm…?"

"Constance."

"Yes. Brilliant. Once we get in there, he's going to be giving orders like crazy, so just hang on for the ride."

She giggled and grinned like that sounded like fun, but she was insane. Auden was grateful to have her holding onto her arm as they walked nonetheless. Her knees were starting to feel a bit weak—probably from a combination of a lot of things. Life—or _death_ had been more stressful than she'd anticipated.

Ahead of them Sebastian stepped up onto a stoop and disappeared from view, though Auden did hear a door open and his voice bark out several instructions already. As they neared the stoop themselves, she noticed a large graffiti-style script on the side of the building that said Seymour Studio in black and white. So this was their destination. Next door to it in the same building, the outside walls turned completely into frosted glass windows, one of which read Gallery 154. Several people shapes were scurrying around behind the glass at the behest of a much larger black shape. This was definitely their destination.

When they reached the stoop, Grelle stopped Auden and held out those stupid glasses. How had she managed to find them?

"You left these," she said. "I know you don't want to wear them, but I also know exactly how blind you are." She tapped the frames of her own glasses for reference.

Auden rolled her eyes, but took the glasses from Grelle. "Haven't any of you people heard of contacts?" she grumbled as she slipped them onto her face.

Grelle laughed. "Of course, but the glasses are tradition. Sorry, kiddo."

Still smiling, Grelle pushed open the door and the buzz Sebastian had created with his appearance filtered out onto the street. Inside, all sorts of people were hurrying around apparently trying to please him. Waiters and waitresses, six or seven guys setting up and moving tables, putting out place settings, a woman with silky brown hair ordering the arrangement of various flowers in enormous vases.

"Connie, over here, please."

"Ah, I've been summoned. Hang tight, Melissa." Grelle detached herself from Auden and blew a kiss, walking swiftly in the direction of Sebastian's voice.

Alone in the buzz of busyness and not sure what to do, Auden hovered just beyond the front door and took a moment to look around her. The foyer was rather grand—the floor above having been knocked out for a high ceiling and a gorgeous modern chandelier—with black marble floors and an exposed concrete wall. To her left, the room opened into what appeared to be a gallery floor, though she couldn't see much from where she was standing. To her right, a series of glass panels had been retracted to open up an enormous studio space where most of the party-related work was taking place. There were several doors beyond that, but all of them were shut.

"Melissa."

Sebastian was right in front of her all of a sudden and Auden jumped.

"I want everything off that desk," he said, and pointed to a reception area just beyond the front door. "Computer monitor only. Put everything else in the drawers."

Remembering Grelle's instructions to do as she was told, Auden nodded and headed for the desk immediately to start clearing its surface. Sebastian disappeared into the gallery space to help the woman with the flowers, but he was back again as soon as Auden had finished and telling her to run up to his office and grab the portfolios on top of one of the cabinets. Before she knew it, the studio and gallery were full of people and the party was well underway. Music, laughter, a whole hell of a lot of expensive-looking jewelry. Grelle and Sebastian glided among them wearing beautiful smiles and carrying on charming conversation. Auden's palms were sweaty. So many people… Her throat started to close. So many…people.

She tried to escape into the gallery on the ground floor, but that was for sales, and everything had a price tag, some of which had numbers on them bigger than all the money she'd seen in her life. It was as overwhelming as the party. Spying a set of spiral stairs in the corner, Auden headed up, anything to get out, and found herself in the gallery's permanent collection. All kinds of different photographs by all kinds of different artists, some of which were fifty years old or more, and none of which were for sale. Feeling less likely to break something or bother someone, Auden wandered through the collection quietly, enjoying the solace as well as the art.

She'd always liked art, picked it as her creative requirement at school. She'd never really been much into photography, but as she wandered through the collection she found that it appealed to her on a fundamental level she didn't know she'd had. Many of the photographs drew her in and she became lost in them, in their other world, standing in front of some frames for minutes at a time. It was wonderful.

Toward the far end of the gallery she came to a sectioned room and when she entered it, was immediately struck by the striking set of pictures on the wall. There were three of them, each about four feet wide, and all of them of Grelle in a stark white room. She stood to the left in the first frame, looking out to her right, clothed in her red, red hair and standing on tiptoes in bare legs. In the middle, she was lying on her back at the top, her arms spread out, her hair falling to the bottom of the frame. On the left, she sat at the bottom right corner, her face angled up, her legs out in front of her, eyes closed. They were enchanting.

The card on the wall next to the piece said _Firebird_ and under that _Sebastian Seymour, 2012_. Auden stood staring at them until the sound of footsteps snapped her out of it.

Grelle poked her head around the corner. "Ah, here you are!" She came into the room, holding two glasses of champagne, one of which she offered to Auden. "I was wondering where you'd got to."

Auden eyed the champagne, and then Grelle.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. You're Shinigami, you can't get drunk. And it's not going to damage your brain or anything. I don't just offer teenagers alcohol." She laughed and half rolled her eyes which for whatever reason made Auden think that she probably did, or had. She wasn't sure which.

Regardless, she _did_ take the champagne from Grelle and gave it a hesitant sip. It was sweet, and kind of strange, and very bubbly. She wasn't sure if she liked it. But she tried it again.

She and Grelle stood quietly for a moment, Grelle with a contented smile on her face, Auden with an expression of confusion as she tasted the champagne again and again a little at a time. As they stood there it occurred to her that Grelle probably knew all there was to know about the permanent collection, since she was in some of the pictures, and Auden was curious.

"Is this you?" she asked, gesturing at the photographs on the wall.

Grelle cheated out a little to face the wall in question, smiling and taking a sip as she nodded. It was a stupid question. It couldn't have been anyone else. "Sure is."

"They're beautiful."

"Thank you. Sebastian's pretty handy with a camera."

Auden smiled a little. "I like the whole collection," she said. "You've got so many different artists."

"Oh, it's all Sebastian."

Auden choked slightly on the sip she'd taken. "What?"

"All the photos. He first started in the fifties—nineteen fifties, I mean. We've had a lot of different names over the years, so they're attributed to different people on paper, but he took every last one." Grelle laughed and finished off her glass. "It was a nightmare trying to acquire them all."

Auden just blinked at her. All these pictures…all those different names…all of them were Sebastian? He certainly did get around. She turned her gaze to the floor and stared.

"Are you an artist, then?" Grelle asked.

Auden shrugged, shrinking a little. "I draw."

Grelle beamed. "That's brilliant. You'll have to show me sometime."

Looking at her feet, Auden nodded. Grelle smiled at her, but shifted her gaze as best she could to give her some privacy.

"I'm glad I caught you alone actually," she said after a moment's quiet. "I'm back on duty at Dispatch tomorrow, and since I'm technically your trainer, you're on the same shift as me. Four days on, two days off."

Auden stiffened and her stomach turned over. "What?"

"Used to be no days off, so you're lucky you've only just become a Shinigami."

A lump had formed in Auden's throat, and try as she might to swallow it down, the thing just wouldn't go. She didn't want to hold that Death Scythe again. She didn't want to collect souls. She didn't even want to be alive. This wasn't what she'd planned. She jumped when Grelle put a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry about it, all right? Tomorrow will be routine. I'll make my rounds and you'll come with me and observe. You won't have to do anything yourself just yet if you don't want."

Sucking in a shaky breath, Auden nodded. Maybe she could handle that.

"Cheers." Grelle gave her shoulder a little squeeze and then let go. "You'll be fine. I promise. I'm going to head back down. You want to come?"

Auden nodded. "In a minute."

"Great."

Grelle smiled and left her standing in front of the other three Grelles on the wall.


	10. Another All-Night Therapy Session

The gallery was off his list now, but that list still felt four thousand items long, and as Sebastian ran it over in his head with his eyes closed leaning against the headboard, he nearly stressed himself into sleep. But Grelle came in to bother him, so it was an experience short-lived.

"I think things went really well tonight," she said, clattering around the room and making all sorts of noise doing nothing getting ready for bed. "Some of the stock even sold, which I wasn't expecting, but hey, no complaints."

He'd booked a portrait shoot after the editorial tomorrow. That was a mistake. "Mm."

All of a sudden Grelle was right up in his face and pressing two of her fingers between his eyebrows. He opened his eyes to look at her.

"Stop it," she said.

"I'm not doing anything."

"You're thinking too hard. You get all squinty when you do that."

She let her fingers drop and moved away, going into the bathroom and turning on the sink. Squinty? What did that mean exactly? He shut his eyes again and let his head tip back. They hadn't heard from Madge on the new layout, they'd need to book a room for Auden now that she existed, he would have to package and ship what had sold that night first thing in the morning and post it for delivery, there wasn't time to do that with the editorial, Grelle was squirming her way between himself and the headboard. He sat up and she fell into the sudden space and scowled up at him, so he looked at her, raising his eyebrows.

"What _are_ you doing?"

"I said stop it."

"Stop _what?_ "

"Stressing out," she replied on an outward breath as she sat up behind him. "What's got you so worked up?"

He sighed and shook his head. So much. He'd already been over it all himself a million times; he wasn't keen to do so again just to appease Grelle. The sigh alone seemed telling enough for her, though, and she titled her head and gave him a half smile.

"Look at you. My little domesticated demon worried about so many people things. You need to get out and kill something, Sebastian."

She wrapped her arms around his neck from behind to pull herself up and kiss his cheek and he laughed.

"Sound advice."

She didn't hear him. " _Gods_ you're so tense," she said, pulling back and pressing her hands into his shoulders. "What is this? Concrete?"

He grimaced a little when she pressed harder. "Ow."

She clicked her tongue. "I thought so. Let me fix it."

Back in the early eighties, Grelle had wanted to become a massage therapist for no reason whatsoever, and Sebastian had figured what the hell, why not? So they'd forked over the money and she'd taken classes, and much to his surprise had actually graduated, though she'd never gotten the chance to use the degree professionally as she'd been hit pretty severely by a car while dressed as her alias shortly thereafter and was forced to play dead. The look on her face when he'd dug her out of that grave… Sebastian smiled.

He'd never been sorry they'd spent the money. It was rather nice to have your own on-hand masseuse. So he obeyed and pulled his shirt off over his head and lay down on the bed so Grelle could get at his back. She started in on his shoulders immediately and the pain was sharp enough to make him cringe.

"You're supposed to tell me before it gets this bad," she chided, honing in on a particular knot that had been bothering him for weeks. "It doesn't help that you look like this."

She'd seen his true form hundreds of times, and while it was true that it was easier just to look the way nature had intended, it wasn't exactly practical. Changing his appearance didn't require a lot of effort, but it was something that built up over time, like pressure on a dam, and he hadn't taken his true form for months.

"Would you rather I looked like a demon?" he asked.

"No, this is my favorite of your faces. Now stop talking and relax."

He smiled and shut his eyes, laying his head down and letting her work. He knew this was her favorite of the various looks he'd taken over the years—it was the one he'd had back in the 1880s, the face she'd first fallen for. Of course Grelle had changed too along with him, cycling through different disguises and names as necessary. She'd come full circle back to his favorite as well, her impossibly long and bright red hair finally being something both plausible and acceptable in human society. Even demons and Shinigami were creatures of habit, it seemed.

It took about an hour and a half for Grelle to work the stiffness out of his muscles, particularly the back of his neck where he held all his stress, but she did manage, and when she'd finished she flopped down beside him and let out an enormous sigh. He turned his head and looked over at her.

"Thank you, my love."

"It wouldn't take so long if you took better care of yourself."

"You take care of me just fine."

"Yes, but 'why pay someone to do a job which you could do better and faster', hmn?"

"I don't pay you."

She laughed. "Well maybe you should start. I think a good massage goes for like eighty quid these days."

"Perhaps, but _they've_ all had proper training."

"I've _had_ proper training."

"Thirty years ago."

She scoffed which turned into a laugh when she took a whack at him and he laughed as well. When she smiled, it made him smile and he sat up a little to pull her in next to him and wrap his arms around her. He kissed her neck and then just held her for a moment. He'd always enjoyed the relative coolness of her Shinigami body against the heat his demon form created in holding another appearance. It was part of the reason he'd decided to stay with Grelle initially, though he couldn't explain why. Something about it just attracted him to her.

Grelle looked at him and brushed his hair back away from his face. "What are you thinking about?" she asked.

"You."

She liked that. It made a smile spread out across her whole face in this dopey kind of dreamy way and she pressed her body against his, pulling herself up to meet his lips. It was always different when Grelle kissed him from when he kissed her. She had this bizarre, passionate, intimate knowledge of exactly how he wanted to be kissed, something he had never been able to replicate himself kissing her. When she kissed him, it was about _him_ —pleasing him—and she knew just how to do it. Kiss after kiss she drew from his lips, and he held onto her all over.

They were interrupted by a knock at the door and a furtive little voice that whispered, "…Grelle?" Auden. Sebastian groaned, but did not let go.

"I'm going to kill that girl."

Grelle laughed, kissing him twice more before saying, "No you're not. You 'like' her remember?"

He should have known that comment was going to come back around to bite him. He gave Grelle a flat look, but she just grinned.

"You stay right there."

She got up and hurried over to the door, pulling on her robe as she went. She turned around and raised her eyebrows at him to ask if she looked presentable and he gave her a nod, so she opened the door to look down at Auden on the other side.

"What's up, pup?"

Auden looked at her feet. "…Hi…I'm sorry to wake you…"

"Oh you thought we were sleeping." Grelle laughed. "You're so cute. Don't worry about it. What's going on?"

"I…"

This was going to turn into another all-night therapy session. Sebastian sat up, pulling his shirt on over his head and stretching the sore muscles in his neck and shoulders. Grelle had done her job a little _too_ well there. He rose and went to the door as well, wrapping an arm around Grelle's waist as he came up beside her.

"Can't sleep?" he asked.

Auden shook her head. She was trembling again. Aside from her horrible timing, he really did feel a mild affection for the girl. Pity, probably, but he liked the way she'd always held her ground around him. He separated himself from Grelle, running his fingers through her hair as he did, and started down the hall.

"I'll make tea. You two can talk."

* * *

Grelle smiled and shook her head at Sebastian's back as he headed for the kitchen. Poor thing. She'd have to arrange for a long weekend away once all the anniversary stuff was over with, something for just the two of them, which would mean finding Auden a babysitter. Heaven knew _that_ girl couldn't handle a night by herself.

Speaking of, Grelle turned her attention back to her little charge. "You want to sit down?" she asked.

Auden gritted her teeth. "No."

Then why come at all? Grelle rolled her eyes and grabbed Auden's wrist and pulled her into the room, practically dragging her across the floor and tossing her onto the bed.

"Too bad."

Aghast, Auden stared up at her like she'd been mortally wounded. "What the _hell?_ "

" _You_ came to _me_. I didn't 'wake' _you_ up. Something's bothering you and you don't want to talk about it, but you come looking for help anyways. I don't get that. You're such a dichotomy."

A lightbulb went up. _That's_ what it was. Grelle had finally been able to put her finger on what it was that had been bothering her about Auden. She was sweet, she was sour, she was shy, she was brash, she tried to stab you with a shiv and then decided she desperately wanted to come home and live with you. She didn't make any sense.

"What's your deal?"

Auden's eyes flashed down at the floor, glaring fiercely. Her cheeks turned red and she clenched her hands together in a fist. Grelle frowned and took a seat on the bed beside her.

"You know can tell me anything. I'm a great listener."

Auden looked at her, angry tears swimming round in her eyes. "Are you?" she spat.

Grelle sighed, but she wouldn't press. Auden could talk when she good and well wanted to, and Grelle wasn't going to play her little attention game. She was an expert in those herself—she could smell one when it was around. Whatever Auden wanted to disclose, she could disclose. Grelle wasn't about to weasel it out of her.

A few tears dripped down Auden's face and she wiped them away with a furious hand. She didn't want to cry, but who did really? Sebastian came back with the tea then, set it out and served it without saying anything. Could sense a mood, that one. Finished, he lay down behind Grelle and wrapped an arm around her waist—his way of letting her know he hadn't forgotten where they'd left off and wasn't about to. She smiled at him and he shut his eyes, smiling back.

"Why don't you tell me about you, then, hm?" Grelle asked, picking up her cup and blowing away the steam. "Where are you from?"

Auden sniffed. Seemed the question was a safe one. "Yorkshire."

Grelle smiled. "I should have known." Her accent was slight, but Grelle could hear it now that she was aware. "It's beautiful there."

Drawing her eyebrows together, Auden looked over. "You've been?"

"We lived there for some time, actually. Around the turn of the century."

The information perked Auden right up. "Where?"

"Felixkirk."

"Oh! My mom's family's from Thirsk."

Grelle laughed and smiled. "Right next door."

Auden smiled a genuine guaranteed smile and for the first time, it didn't fade into miserable. It felt good to have cheered her up, but Grelle was going to need more information about what she was dealing with if she was going to continue to deal with it. And as much as she wanted to hear it from Auden herself, if her current pace was going to keep, that wasn't going to cut it. She didn't want to look at her records, but she just might have to.

"Auden…" Oh, she didn't want to ruin her mood… "…is there anything you feel like you should tell me?"

Auden looked down. "No…" she whispered.

A slight frown graced Grelle's lips for a moment, but she shrugged it off and put a hand on Auden's knee. "All right."

Auden nodded, and that seemed to Grelle to be a thank you.

"Whenever you need something, even if you don't want to talk, you can always come to us, all right?"

She nodded again, sipped her tea. Mercy this child was a handful. She needed to get out, get working. Get busy. Monitoring death didn't seem like it would be particularly therapeutic for forgetting about your own, but all Shinigami worked hard, didn't they? Grelle realized as they sat that she hadn't done any prep work with Auden on her training Scythe at all, which was the whole purpose in having checked it out from Administration. Hopefully there wouldn't be paperwork for that.

* * *

Auden said good night to Grelle and Sebastian and crept up to her own room in the soft darkness. She couldn't find the words to tell Grelle about what had brought her here. She couldn't describe what it felt like to be told over and over again, "You should just kill yourself." Texts, emails, in her locker at school, Facebook, everywhere. She'd never been able to escape it. But that wasn't where it had started. No, that had been the end. She couldn't even turn around and face her life herself, much less tell someone else about it.

Still. Grelle understood. Of that Auden was certain.

She'd gone down that night because she'd dreamt about it again—her own death. Just as vividly as if she was doing it once more. Setting up that chair, making sure the knot was tight. She wasn't sure why she'd chosen hanging, or why she'd been so interested to know what Grelle had done, but she was sure that it defined her somehow. All the same, she didn't want to relive the pain every time she closed her eyes. The whole purpose had been to escape the pain, but here she was. And she couldn't even tell Grelle about the dreams.

Auden climbed into bed and curled up into a ball, pulling the blankets up around her and snuggling down. Part of her brain poked at her, trying to tell her she should be nervous about tomorrow, she should be afraid of sleep, but she only felt warm. Sebastian really did make a good cup of tea.


	11. First Time on the Job

Getting Auden out of bed was like trying to wake up a rock. Grelle had to shake her three or four times before the kid's breathing pattern changed, and even when it did, she barely cracked her eyes open.

"Come on," Grelle said. "We've got to go soon."

"Mm," Auden grumbled, turning and pulling the covers over her head.

Grelle rolled her eyes, climbed up onto the bed, and started jumping up and down. "You." Up. "Have." Down. "One." Up. "Hour." Down. "Then I'm dragging you to Dispatch whether you're ready or not." She bent over and pulled back the covers from Auden's face. "Got it?" The girl was laughing, sort of. Looked like she was trying to hold it in. Grelle smiled at her. Auden nearly smiled back.

"I'll go over Death Scythe basics at breakfast. Get dressed and come downstairs quickly. We have to catch the eight-seventeen."

Hopping down, Grelle left Auden's room and headed for the kitchen. She'd retrieved Auden's practice Scythe and set it on the counter earlier that morning so they wouldn't forget it. When she came in, Sebastian was inspecting it from a distance while stirring a pan of scrambled eggs. He'd probably never seen a training Scythe.

"Don't touch that," Grelle said and went to the cupboard to grab place settings. "It'll smell like demon and then I'll get in trouble."

"Do demons have a smell?" he asked, chuckling.

She smiled and carried a couple of plates and all the necessary silverware over to the table. "Not a smell, per se. More like an aura. William is particularly sensitive to it."

"Well then certainly _you_ must 'smell' like demon?" He looked back over his shoulder from the stove.

"I do. I've never heard the end of it."

He laughed and then was quiet. Smiling, Grelle put out the dishes and started to arrange the silverware around them.

"Madge sent a new layout," Sebastian said.

"And?"

He nodded his approval. Thank god. Grelle didn't know why he even cared. _She_ was the one who wanted to throw and anniversary party. _He_ was the one being picky about every tiny detail. She finished setting places.

"Will you call the hotel today and see if we can reserve a room for Auden that weekend?"

"It's the first thing on my list."

"Hotel for where?" Auden asked, coming into the kitchen tying her hair up into a ponytail.

"Brighton," Grelle replied. "We're celebrating our hundred and twenty-fifth anniversary with a weekend on the coast."

"Oh." She took a seat at the table and Sebastian stepped over to dish some scrambled eggs onto her plate. "Thanks."

"Have you been to Brighton?"

"I've never been to the _sea_ ," Auden answered. Sebastian brought her two slices of toast and she thanked him for them as well.

"Well, we'll soon remedy that," Grelle replied with a smile. "Oh, I nearly forgot!" Hurrying, she jaunted over to the counter, grabbed the training Scythe, and held it up to display it to Auden.

"This is a Death Scythe," she said.

"No shit," Auden replied, shoving a spoonful of scrambled eggs into her mouth.

Grelle glared at her. "Shush. This is what we use to collect souls."

"How?"

"I'm getting to that. They come in all different shapes and sizes, and yours is a practice one. A real Death Scythe blade can cut through anything. This will only go about as far as souls and…oh, I don't know, steel?"

"If they can cut through anything, can they cut through other Death Scythes?"

Sebastian laughed. Grelle huffed. Precocious little brat. How had she thought of that so quickly? Auden raised her eyebrows in expectation.

" _Can_ they?"

As he came over to the table to sit down, Sebastian shook his head, still chuckling. "It's a sensitive topic. Best not to ask."

"No. They can't," Grelle replied, folding her arms. "And that's all I have to say about it."

Auden shrugged and continued to listen while they ate and Grelle ran her through all the basics of Death Scythe training—how to draw out a Cinematic Record, what Auden could expect to see in one, that she'd probably never see a soul with a life worth extending, how to sever that soul from the body and store it in the Death Scythe until deposit.

"Occasionally you'll have to use it for fighting, but you won't have to worry about that just yet."

"Fighting what?"

"Demons."

Auden's eyes flicked over to Sebastian. He winked at her, which made Auden blush and turn her face to her plate.

"Not all of them are like our darling Sebas-chan," Grelle said, taking a seat on his lap and placing her arms around his shoulders. "Some of them will do anything for a soul, including killing reapers."

"What do demons want souls for?"

"They eat them," Grelle replied. "I'm certain I told you that."

Auden raised an eyebrow. "But if you have to collect them, and demons need them for food, what does Sebastian eat?"

"We have an arrangement to keep him fed," Grelle said and kissed his cheek.

Sebastian smiled. "Occasionally souls are collected that are deemed too unholy to be kept on," he said to Auden. "These are given to me." It had been a hell of a process to get the necessary paperwork for it.

"Oh." Auden nodded, her gaze fixed on her near-empty plate. She seemed to be trying to process the information—whether it was the part about demons needing souls for food, soul collection, or the fact that it was possible for souls to exist that were evil enough to require total destruction was anybody's guess. Probably it was a troublesome combination of the three. Grelle stood up, laced her fingers with Sebastian's as he reached after her.

"You ready, kiddo?"

Auden nodded, rising and stuffing a piece of toast in her mouth for the road. Grelle held out the Death Scythe. The girl hesitated, but did eventually take it.

"Where's yours?" she asked.

"Dispatch," Grelle replied. "I returned it the morning I went shopping for your clothes. We're not allowed to keep them checked out much longer than a day unless absolutely necessary."

She didn't mention to Auden the fact that she was under stricter surveillance than the average Shinigami when it came to the use of her Death Scythe. Administration hadn't quiet learned to trust her yet, even though she'd been incident free for over a hundred years.

"Come on, then," Grelle said and gave Sebastian a goodbye kiss before heading out of the kitchen. Auden hopped to and followed right behind, down the stairs and out onto the street. She hesitated until Grelle pointed northeast up the sidewalk.

"Green Park station is this way," she said, smiling.

Auden didn't speak for the whole walk until they popped out on Piccadilly.

"Grelle?"

"Hm?"

"What's it like?"

"Collecting souls?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, it's miserable."

Grelle laughed at the expression her statement had put on Auden's face. They'd reached the Underground station by then and Grelle trotted down the steps into the building.

"It becomes second nature over time," she explained. "For the most part, rather boring. Sometimes exciting things happen like souls going missing or having to fight demons, or legions of undead corpses, but that's only once in a blue moon."

"Did you say _undead corpses?_ "

Grelle handed Auden a couple of pounds and pushed her toward the ticket window. "Don't think too hard about it. Hurry up. We can't miss this train."

* * *

The outside of the Shinigami Dispatch Association didn't look particularly familiar to Auden—a spectacularly large, shining modern building that must have held upwards of a thousand offices not far from the Shard. She was quite acquainted with the inside of her former room there, and was pressed to admit she wasn't particularly keen to go back at all. Too many bad memories. Grelle was humming as she climbed up the steps to the series of revolving front doors, Auden following and trying to keep the butterflies in her stomach _in_ her stomach.

"Ronald!" Grelle called, putting a hand in the air and scurrying the rest of the distance up the stairs, leaving Auden in the dust.

A young man with two-toned hair and enormous glasses looked over at the sound of what must have been his name and his face lit up with a laugh when he saw it was Grelle who had said it.

"Hey! Old man Sutcliff!"

"How was Paris?" Grelle asked as she caught him up, the two of them standing still in a cloud of Shinigami headed for the doors.

" _Magnifique_ ," Ronald replied and chuckled again. "French ladies are ever so much better than English ones, you know?"

Auden didn't want to go inside without Grelle, and really wouldn't have known what to do if she did, so she came to a stop just beside her, hovering and looking at the ground.

"Ronald, this is Auden. She's my mentee."

"Ronald Knox," he said, putting out his hand to shake. "It's a pleasure, Auden."

Auden accepted the handshake, but was quick to let go. Ronald looked at Grelle.

"Sebastian said yes, huh?"

"Actually, it took very little convincing."

They started to walk and Auden had no choice but to follow. The three of them fell into step with the other reapers flowing in through the doors, Grelle and Ronald chatting about Ronald's progress through the application process for a mentee. Apparently he'd filled out his paperwork incorrectly and then with his trip to Paris hadn't had a chance to mend the error. These people and their damn paperwork.

Auden suspected there was quite a bit of that in her own future, seeing as when they got to Administration, Grelle and Ronald had to grab more forms and hop in line behind a hundred other Shinigami filling out the same and waiting for their Death Scythes. Ronald received a lawn mower over the counter that somehow managed to be even more ridiculous than Grelle's ridiculous chainsaw.

"Once we get our Scythes, we collect our soul register for the day," Grelle informed Auden and ushered her toward yet another indiscriminate hallway.

"This your first time on the job?" Ronald asked.

Auden nodded, but that was really all she could do. For starters, the thought of actually going out and collecting people's _souls_ had her heart pounding in her chest and her palms growing sweaty around the handle of her training Scythe. Second, they ran into another reaper in the hallway who was apparently the one they were looking for. Headed away from them, he was carrying an enormous stack of files and looking incredibly put-out, a bluish vein clearly visible on his temple that Auden suspected was probably visible most of the time.

"William," Grelle trilled. "Your two favorite members of the retrieval division are here for their soul registers."

The reaper stopped to glance over his shoulder and the vein practically doubled in size.

"Morning, Will," Ronald said, pausing but a moment in front of William to scan the files in his arms, select several in the middle of the stack, and extract them swiftly. The files that had been sitting on top of the ones Ronald had taken dropped to fill in the space and William only just managed to keep them balanced so that they didn't spill all over the floor. Ronald tucked his files under his arm.

"See you later, Grelle. Pleasure to meet you, Auden," he said and grinned, giving her a wink before pushing his lawn mower down the hallway and disappearing around the next turn. It was the second time that morning Auden had been winked at, and she didn't think she liked it.

"Anything for us?" Grelle asked.

"You know perfectly well I have a register for you," William grumbled, setting the stack on the floor.

Grelle glanced at Auden as William started sifting through the files, pointing at him and mouthing the word, "Grumpy." William turned around just in time for Grelle to straighten up and offer a smile. Silent, he held out a stack of files which Grelle accepted.

"This is too many," Grelle said, counting them.

"I added twenty more cases to your workload."

" _What?_ "

"Oh? Can you not manage it? Was it not you who was complaining just last week that there wasn't enough to do?"

"I've got a mentee now. I need to focus on training her."

William turned his eyes on Auden and scrutinized her, the slightest wrinkle appearing in the bridge of his nose.

"It looks to me as though that will take a very, very long time."

Saying nothing else, he turned on his heel, picked up the remnants of the stack of files, and started off down the hall. Grelle gritted her teeth, turning a little red.

"Auden, will you hold these for a moment?"

Grelle slapped the files into Auden's hands and hurried after William, grabbing his arm and pulling him aside. The two started exchanging sharp, hushed words almost immediately. Auden looked down at the files, then opened one with a jittery hand.

 _Emily Abbott_

 _Anticipated Cause of Death: Natural Causes_

A picture of an old woman was paper clipped to the top of the file. She was supposed to pass away that afternoon, aged eighty-seven. Not so bad. Auden opened another.

 _Franklin S. Bosch_

 _Anticipated Cause of Death: Heart Failure due to Cardiac Arrest_

A middle aged man this time, perhaps in his late fifties. Worse, but not as gruesome as she'd been expecting. She moved on.

 _Gwendolyn May James_

 _Anticipated Cause of Death: Asphyxiation due to Choking_

That one was a mistake. She should have stopped reading. A little girl, barely over the age of six, going to choke on a playmate's toy that evening while she was over for a visit. Choking, asphyxiation. Auden knew the feeling. She knew it well. What it was like to take a step off a chair, to gasp, but not gasp, and not get any air in, to wonder if this was it, if you were really going to die, and if you'd made the right choice after all.

The next thing Auden knew, the floor was coming up to meet her. She didn't quite make it, though, as a pair of arms caught her. Grelle's, probably, judging by all the red, but Auden couldn't really see. Voices mumbled at her, loud, but indistinguishable. She tried to shut them out, tried to lift her hands to her ears, but her arms wouldn't move or were stuck to her sides and she started to panic, and panicking made her breath come even more haphazardly, which made her feel even more dizzy. Just when she thought the pressure building in her head might make her explode, everything went dark.


	12. Bottled Up

When she came to, the world was quiet once again. The lights were dim. She was laying on a bed in a row of beds and Grelle was sitting on the end of it.

"Auden," she said, sitting up.

Scrunching up her forehead, Auden tried to clear a little of the fog from her mind. She'd fainted again, hadn't she? She'd been doing a lot of that lately. Grelle took advantage of the silence to ask a question.

"What happened?"

Auden's throat started to close at the mere thought of telling her about what had caused her panic, but Grelle was close all of a sudden and taking hold of her hand.

"You can tell me," she said softly.

"I can't," Auden whispered back.

"Auden…look." Grelle's gaze turned to her lap for a moment before coming back up. "I _know_ what it feels like to be you right now. I don't know what happened to you before you got here, but I know _how_ you got here, and that tells me enough."

Auden looked away. She'd forgotten that Grelle had been like her once—a new Shinigami, but also a human who had taken her own life. The defense mechanisms in her brain kept trying to kick in, trying to push Grelle away and convince Auden's heart that she was a liar, that she couldn't relate, but Auden was tired of listening to her head. That's what had gotten her here in the first place.

"Hard things are, well, by their nature _hard_ to talk about," Grelle continued. "But you have to talk about them. It isn't healthy to keep them bottled up."

There was plenty of evidence to support _that_ theory. Here was Auden, lying in a sick room bed as they spoke.

"I'm ready to listen. If you're ready to talk."

Auden shut her eyes. She'd hardly ever talked. To anyone. About anything. Not after her mother died, and she'd been so young then she could barely remember her. It was just Auden and her father, and later her father's friend from work who sometimes lived with them. Nick used to come into her room at night whenever he stayed over, cover Auden's mouth and tell her to shut up and let him do what he wanted. Even when he wasn't there, Auden went to bed in fear, praying not to get woken up and to wake up alone. She never told her dad about Nick. He wouldn't have believed her.

The second she'd decided to open up, to share the burden with a girl she'd hoped to become friends with at school, everything fell apart. That girl told her friend, who told her friend, who told another friend, who told their friends, and soon rumors were flying and hateful notes written on ripped up bits of paper filled her locker and whispers of, "slut," followed her endlessly through the halls, were plastered all over her Facebook page, coming through to her phone on anonymous texts, and still Nick would come, until one day Auden just couldn't take it anymore. It wasn't a rash decision. Auden had been thinking about it for years, planning how and when. All it took was a final decision.

"My dad's friend Nick used to…" She didn't know how to put it into words. "He lived with us sometimes and he…sometimes at night he would make me…"

That was as much as she could get out before her voice quit on her, but it didn't matter. Grelle took her meaning.

"I'm so sorry, darling," she said softly, her grip on Auden's hand growing tighter.

Tears filled Auden's eyes, streaked down her temples as she lay on her back. She saw it every time she went to sleep, every time she closed her eyes, crystal clear and bright as day, like it was playing over and over again right in front of her except she was part of it. Every night it happened all over again—Nick, the bullying, the rope around her neck.

"I deserved it," she whispered. "I'm worthless."

" _No._ "

The firmness and anger with which that word exited Grelle's mouth brought Auden's eyes to her. Grelle was looking back with so much intensity, Auden thought for a moment that she might actually be upset with her.

"Don't you _ever_ say that."

Auden had to look away. "It's true…"

"It's not."

Auden didn't have anything to say. Her throat was tight. A few more tears trickled out over the corners of her eyes. It was quiet for a moment, and Grelle held onto her hand, stroking the back of it, eventually taking in a breath.

"Auden," she said, "I've done… _horrible_ things to people. Ruined lives, and taken them. If I've learned anything it's that no one is beyond redemption. No one is undeserving of happiness, no matter what."

Grelle caught her eye, held it for a moment.

"You have to forgive yourself," she said.

Nobody had ever said anything like that to her. Nobody had ever said she deserved to be happy. Grelle's image blurred with a fresh crop of tears and Auden couldn't keep it back any more. She cried. Holding onto Auden's hand, Grelle pulled her into a sitting position and wrapped her up in a hug. She didn't say anything, just held on and let Auden cry. It had been years since anyone had touched her with affection, not hate or fear or violence. It felt…warm.

It took a couple minutes for Auden to calm down and quiet her tears. When she did break the hug, Grelle grabbed a box of tissues from the bedside table and held them out.

"Thanks," Auden said and took the whole thing.

"We'll start slow with soul collection," Grelle said as Auden blew her nose. "Ronald's already agreed to take our extra cases. I know it doesn't seem like it will help, but keeping busy can be good."

Auden nodded. "Okay."

"You want some time alone?"

She shook her head. "No… Please stay."

Grelle nodded and was quiet. Auden filled several tissues with snot and tears before lying back down, curling her knees up close to her chest under the covers and letting Grelle hold onto her hand. She shut her eyes and breathed deep, feeling safe for the first time in her life. Several minutes later, she spoke.

"Did I ruin my training schedule?"

"We're right on track." Grelle smiled when Auden gave her a look like she thought that was a lie. "As long as we make it out to do the afternoon collections, we'll be fine."

Auden nodded, closed her eyes again. "I thought there would be some kind of…regimen."

Grelle laughed. "There used to be. When I was first starting out my training as a reaper we did things very differently. Big groups of classes, a final test you had to complete with a partner. Come to think of it, William and I got paired together for that."

"The rude one with all the papers?"

"Mm-hm. I had quite the crush on him then."

Auden smiled. Grelle seemed like the type who might have a crush on anything that moved. "What happened?"

"With the crush or the test?"

"The _test_ ," Auden laughed. It was obvious where the crush had gone.

"Well, we very nearly bungled the whole thing, but we passed. Will was a stoic even then. The years haven't exactly improved him."

"When was this?"

"Oh, seventeen something. I don't remember."

Auden sat up. "You're _three hundred_ years old?"

Grelle scowled. "Do I look three hundred to you? I'm two hundred and sixty-four thank you very much." She flapped a hand in Auden's face and Auden laughed. So Grelle could remember dates when it came to her age, but nothing else. Auden wasn't really sure if thirty-six years really made all that much of a difference, especially when it came to immortals with bodies that didn't age. Grelle _looked_ to be in her late twenties, which obviously wasn't the case.

"How old is Sebastian?" Auden asked.

Grelle shrugged. "I'm not sure if even _he_ knows," she replied. "Many centuries older than I am. Perhaps even a few millennia."

Auden couldn't quite wrap her head around that. To have lived as long as Grelle was daunting enough, she didn't want to linger too long on the thought of being around for a thousand years or more. How much the world must have changed in that time… She slumped a little, realizing something.

"Will I be fourteen forever?"

"No," Grelle said and Auden had to suppress a relieved puff of air. "Your body will continue to grow until you look about as old as the rest of us. Or did you think we'd all died at exactly the same age?"

She didn't know what she'd thought. Shrugging, Auden looked at Grelle somewhat sheepishly. There was far too much for her to learn.

"Those who died young continue to age until they hit a certain point—mid-twenties for most. Those who died old revert back to a younger form."

"Why?"

"Isn't that the question of the day."

Grelle punctuated the statement with a smile, but Auden still looked down at her lap. She had so _many_ questions. Just what was she supposed to make of all this? As she was beginning to form a thought, a question to ask, because she had about a thousand of those, her stomach grumbled.

"Hungry?" Grelle chuckled.

"What _time_ is it?"

"Nearly noon."

She'd been under for hours. Auden swallowed. That made her nervous. She hadn't ever fainted when she'd been alive, and it didn't make any sense for it to happen now. Wasn't she supposed to be some kind of supernatural being? If that was the case, then why did she feel so bleeding tired all the time? She hadn't really felt rested since she'd died and woken up to a group of green-eyed weirdos—who she now understood to be Shinigami—who had dragged her off to some room—which she now understood to be part of the Dispatch Association—and from being kept in that room and refusing to food to going home with Grelle and Sebastian. To say the least, she was a little stressed out.

"I'll go grab something to eat," Grelle said and stood up. "You try to relax."

Nodding, Auden set her head on her pillow and shut her eyes, dozing off before Grelle had even left the room.


	13. Gentle Soul

After a couple of sandwiches from the Tesco down the street, it was time to go out on soul collection. Grelle handed Auden the file and told her to look it over. Opening it carefully, hoping it wasn't that little girl, Auden realized she'd seen this file before—the old lady, Emily Abbott. She checked the time of death and address as Grelle instructed, then the two of them headed off for Clerkenwell and the woman's house.

As they walked, headed toward Southwark Bridge to cross the Thames and taking it easy, Auden was surprised to notice that none of the people on the street paid any attention to them— _well_. It was more surprising that they weren't paying any attention to Grelle, decked out as she was in red with that giant chainsaw slung up on her shoulder. Others had been able to see them this morning on the Tube, but now the crowd seemed to part unconsciously, and they made quick and easy progress through the bustle.

"What's going on?" Auden asked.

"When a reaper's on duty, we can't be seen. Nobody's quite sure how it works."

That seemed to be the _answer_ of the day. Auden rolled her eyes. "Do we know how _anything_ works?"

"Don't be a smart ass," was Grelle's only reply. So Auden shut up. Knowing that people were going to move around her, she strolled alongside Grelle, turning her head in a constant swivel to take in every sight and sound she could. She'd only visited London once, as a kid. It was so big, so busy, she got this feeling like the whole thing was looming down over her, the sky included. Crossing the bridge, she noticed the dome of St. Paul's peeking up over the skyline.

"Can we walk by there?" Auden asked, pointing at the cathedral.

Grelle followed her line of sight and then nodded. "Sure. It's on the way."

Once they'd crossed the bridge, Grelle headed up the north bank and left through the streets until they reached one that led directly to St. Paul's. Auden found her head tipping back and her neck kinking as they approached and she let her eyes rove all over the top of it. The thing was just so _huge_. What must it be like to go to church in a building like that?

"Very Catholic for a religion trying to break from Catholicism, don't you think?" Grelle said with a grin.

Auden nodded, her eyes locked on that dome, wondering if churches on scales like this even really mattered to God. If there was a God. There were Shinigami, and she was one of them, so it stood to reason that there had to be _somebody_ in charge. Didn't it?

"Is there a God?"

Glancing back over her shoulder for a moment, Grelle raised an eyebrow. She turned back around before she responded. "We follow orders from On High."

"Okay, but is there a _God?_ "

"That's classified."

"Do _you_ know?"

Grelle put up her arms in a shrug. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't."

Auden rolled her eyes and didn't ask any more questions the rest of the way to Clerkenwell. What was the point anyway? It wasn't until they reached the woman's house that Auden realized she'd instinctively known how to get there and had only half been following Grelle. Auden didn't know London, hell, she barely knew _York_ and she'd grown up there, and yet she'd walked right here as if following some kind of invisible string. She looked up at the building, a fully-attached four story with a door on the street. Emily Abbott lived, and would die, in the ground floor flat.

As her hand reached out for the doorknob, Auden started to tremble. Her hand shrank back. She couldn't do it. She couldn't go up there. She couldn't deal with any more death. She'd had her fill of it with her own. Auden didn't realize how roughly she was shaking until Grelle put her hands on her shoulders to steady her.

"You can do this," she said.

"I…I don't…I don't think I _can._ " Someone was going to die. A little old woman who had probably never done anything to anybody and Auden was going to take her _soul._ It was monstrous, it was—

"Auden."

She looked up at Grelle, her breathing ragged. When had she looked away?

"If you don't feel suited to retrieval, we can put in a request to have you tested and sorted elsewhere, but I _promise_ they selected you for this division for a reason. Just give it a try."

Nodding, Auden took a deep breath. Grelle gave her a moment to find her balance before letting go of her shoulders and opening the front door. She moved through the entry to a door just down the hall and opened that one, too, glancing at her wrist watch.

"We've got just a few minutes," she said, and went inside.

Auden followed. The inside of the flat smelled strange—a mix of antiseptic and old furniture. Everything was tidy, but every nook was full. Plants, armchairs, crocheted doilies, afghans and photographs. A couple of ceramic King Charles spaniels sat on either side of a false fireplace. Grelle glanced around a moment before heading toward the only bedroom. Auden got caught up looking at a collection of decorative spoons, but hurried after her.

Just beyond the door, an oxygen machine hummed, and the sound grew louder once the door was open. A woman lay in the bed beside it, tubes in her nose. She was pale, wrinkled, the veins standing out blue on the backs of her withered hands. Her short white hair stuck out from her head at every angle. A pair of dark eyes opened in the folds of her face when Grelle came in.

"Hello there, love. We're here to collect your soul."

The woman just peered at them for a second, her blanket clutched up in her hands right under her chin. After a moment, she spoke on a warbled, whispering voice.

"Are you an angel?"

"Something like that," Grelle replied.

She entered the room, leaned her chainsaw against the oxygen machine and looked over at Auden who was still lingering in the doorway. Hesitantly, Auden stepped into the room.

"Are you ready to go, love?" Grelle asked the woman.

"Oh, I suppose," Emily replied. She had to take in a few deep breaths to continue. "If I must. I don't want to be any trouble."

"No trouble. Take your time."

Emily closed her eyes. Grelle picked through a dish of jewelry on her dresser. When the woman's eyes reopened, she looked right at Auden.

"I didn't know angels…came so…small," she said.

Auden looked at Grelle. Grelle smiled.

"I can go if you want, ma'am," Auden said. "I don't have to be here—"

"No. No, I like small angels. You look like…like my Margaret."

Emily's eyes shut again and she drew in a very, very deep breath. Grelle checked her watch. The breath left Emily's lungs, and she drew in another, then another.

"It's time," Grelle said.

She held out her hand for Auden's Scythe and Auden stepped over to hand it to her.

"You'll feel the soul," Grelle said softly. She put her hand on Emily's sternum and pressed gently down. The woman released a final breath. "It will want to come out."

Lowering the training Scythe, Grelle touched the point to the place above her hand, and applying a gentle pressure, cut into the Emily's throat. At once the room became bright. Strips of what looked like film began streaming out of the incision Grelle had made.

"Her Cinematic Record," Grelle explained. She put her hand out to Auden. "Come here."

Her eyes locked with and illuminated by the light of the Record, the film's gentle _flip-flip-flip_ tickling her ears, Auden came forward and grasped Grelle's hand. Grelle stepped to the side, bringing Auden up to the edge of the bed.

"Let her show you."

She repositioned Auden's hand onto the handle of the Scythe.

At once, Auden was somewhere else. In a garden, the sweet scent of lavender in the air all around her. A little girl was playing with a litter of puppies, a mother called from the porch that it was time to come in. She was in school, with the same little girl, with Emily, and she jumped rope with the other children on the sidewalk. Then it was secondary school, graduation, moving away, the thrill of a big city, of university, getting married, having children, watching those children grow and have children of their own, Christmases and birthdays and Easters and holidays in France with the family, there was sorrow at the loss of a husband, at illness, at children moving away for work, but there was pride, and joy, and comfort, and there was growing old, quiet, and tired. Then there was Grelle, and herself, and a quiet slipping away on a sweet, final breath.

When the Record ended and Auden opened her eyes, she took in the deepest, clearest breath of air she had ever done. She trembled, and tears lined her face, but they were joyful. This feeling, complete and total, it filled her up, made her glow, made her cry, brought gooseflesh to her arms. She looked at Grelle and Grelle was smiling.

"Wonderful, isn't it?"

Auden could only nod. Wonderful was hardly the word for it, but the word for it didn't exist, couldn't exist, and never would. She felt…healed. Closed up, bandaged over, kissed better. She looked down at her Scythe, noticing the slightest of dull glows around the edges of the blade. Emily's soul. Auden gently removed it and clutched the Scythe to her chest, whispering:

"Thank you."

Maybe.

Just maybe.

This would be all right after all.

* * *

Not every life was as gentle as Emily Abbott's. Grelle stamped her file with the red ink of completion and tucked it away in her coat. She'd sorted through all the files William had assigned them for the day, picked out the ones she figured would be safe for Auden, and begged favors of Ronald and several additional members of the retrieval division to cover the others. Grelle couldn't protect her forever, but she _could_ ease her in, and after a few more soul collections much like Emily's, Auden was looking more refreshed than she ever had over the last few days.

They came home that night to find Sebastian waiting for them in the foyer. He startled Auden, but a kind smile from him brought forth one of her own.

"I left something for you on the kitchen table," he said.

"What is it?"

"Why don't you go and see?"

Auden narrowed her eyes at him, but her curiosity won out and she started into the kitchen. Sebastian looked at Grelle once she'd gone.

"How did it go?" he asked.

"Fine, once we got down to it," Grelle replied. Reaching that point had been a whole mess of fainting and trembling and questions about God, but at least they'd managed to collect a few souls. She was going to have to pay Ronald and the others back in several pounds of flesh later, she had a feeling. Shinigami were not forgiving about debts as a rule.

"She didn't faint again?"

Grelle had called Sebastian after Auden had passed out that first time, and he'd wanted to come down to Dispatch and take a look at her, but Grelle had insisted he stay at the gallery. Grelle shook her head.

"No, she managed to stay upright."

Auden came running into the foyer, stopping just short of the threshold. " _Thank you_ ," she breathed, and then went running back.

Grelle gave Sebastian a look. "What did you get her?"

"Just a little something to keep her mind busy," he replied.

Reaching out, Grelle grabbed hold of his belt and tugged him forward into a kiss. "I'll keep _your_ mind busy," she said, pointing a finger in his face and then heading for the kitchen.

Sebastian caught her up, sliding an arm around her waist and drawing her close as she entered the room. At the table, Auden was sorting through an enormous pile of art supplies. Sketchbooks and loose leaf papers in every different weight, pencils, colored and lead, gum erasers, kneaded erasers, markers, pens, anything and everything someone could ever want for drawing. There was even an easel and a sketch drawing clipboard.

" _Gods,_ " Grelle breathed, the sheer sight of it all bringing her to a stop. She looked at Sebastian. "What's all this then?"

"A gift," he replied. "From one artist to another."

Grelle narrowed her eyes at him. How had he known Auden liked to draw? He'd been downstairs when she'd told Grelle at the party, and Grelle hadn't remembered to pass it along, but somehow he'd managed to sleuth it out himself. God only knew what he'd gone through to find that little tidbit of information. His days solving crimes for the Queen's Watchdog still hadn't quite worn off. Sebastian just smiled.

"Will it do, Auden?" he asked.

"Will it _do?_ " Auden stared at him, her mouth agape, but it only lasted a moment before she was sorting through all the supplies again. "I've _never_ had stuff this nice." She uncovered a set of Prismacolor soft core colored pencils and practically melted into the floor.

"Often we are only as good as our equipment," Sebastian replied. "I should know."

" _Ohmygod,ohmygod,ohmygod…_ "

"I think it's a success, to say the least," Grelle chuckled, watching as Auden extracted one of the sketchbooks from the bottom of the pile and went immediately to work.

"Collecting the art supplies caused a delay in dinner preparations," Sebastian said, looking back at Grelle and running a hand down her side. "Would you like me to start now or shall we go out?"

"Let's go out. Auden?"

She didn't even look up from the sketchbook.

"Auden."

Nope.

" _Auden._ "

"What?"

"Would you like to go out to eat?"

"Sure, where?"

"Nando's is close."

Auden didn't respond. She'd been sucked back into her drawing. Grelle shook her head.

"Nando's it is."


	14. Gone in a Blitz

The next three days flew by. Auden found she quite liked soul collection, liked walking through London with Grelle, completely invisible to everyone around her, liked reliving other people's lives in the blink of an eye. She'd noticed Grelle was slowly introducing cases that were progressively more emotionally draining—car accidents, people who died young, those with family surrounding the hospital bed and weeping—but Auden didn't mind. She didn't mind the sorrow and the trauma that lurked in some souls and were shown to her on their Cinematic Records. If anything it was comforting—comforting to know that she wasn't the only one who had suffered in her life.

On their two days off, Grelle carted her around London to see some of the sights and pick out new things for her room. Grelle very much wanted to get all of the "touristy bollocks" out of the way, but Auden spent so long in the National Gallery that the plan went immediately out the window. They stopped at a couple of shops on their way back home, bought a new bedspread and a rug and a whole mess of throw pillows. Auden had also purchased the largest available print of Hans Holbein's _The Ambassadors_ from the gift shop at the National Gallery to hang above her bed. Grelle had given her a look about it, but hadn't said no, and even offered to have it framed.

They visited Sebastian at the studio, and Auden drew while Sebastian worked and Grelle took care of most of the filing. Auden sat unobtrusively off to the side during his photoshoots and sketched the various clients. It had been a long time since she'd felt motivated to draw, or had such interesting subjects. Sebastian did a lot of portrait work, apparently, and other strange things for high fashion ads. In a matter of hours her book was half full with drawings of women posing on giant perfume bottles, businessmen in plaid suits and boat hats, garments that looked like they'd come from another planet.

The next four days of soul collection passed quickly, busily, her and Grelle hurrying from case to case gathering soul after soul. Another week went by and Auden had graduated from the puny training Scythe to a much larger, more grim-reaper-y model. It stood about as tall as her, one long curved sickle blade extending from its top. The whole thing was carved wood, including the blade, and it still came with the stipulation that it couldn't cut through everything, but new Scythe meant new training, and that training included how to fight. Auden was terrible at it, still gaining strength slowly after her stint on a hunger strike and massively uncoordinated in general. Every evening, Sebastian coaxed her into the gym to spar.

Another two weeks were gone in a blitz—training with Sebastian, touring London, collecting souls and filling out paperwork. Sebastian started teaching Auden how to cook; Grelle bought her a boatload of make-up and forced her to learn to do that as well though she quickly forgot it all. Sometimes Ronald came over for dinner, or ate lunch on break with Auden and Grelle. Somewhere in that time he messed up his application for a mentee _again_ and Grelle told Auden she was convinced he was doing it on purpose.

Just when Auden had finally started to settle into a routine, to truly inhabit her room now filled with knickknacks from every museum she'd visited, to draw and draw and let some of the tension she kept knotted up in her lower back go, something happened.

She saw Nick opposite her on street in the crowd waiting to cross from the other side.

" _Oh my god_."

Her chest constricted. Was that him? Oh god, _was_ it? Her vision had gone fuzzy and unfocused, and when it all snapped clear, the walk signal had changed and she and Grelle were being moved along with the others crossing the street and she lost sight of him. Her heart pounded in her ears. He would have been crossing toward her right then. Where was he, where was he, _where was he?_

"Auden?"

She had been turning circles as she walked, searching every face frantically, trying to find Nick's, just so she could know if she had actually _seen_ him. She turned on Grelle as soon as she'd spoken, grabbing her arm.

"Are we on duty right now? Can we be seen?"

"Auden, what's gotten into you?" Grelle tried to shake her off but Auden held on.

" _Can people see us?_ "

"What do _you_ think?"

Grelle gestured at the people forced to walk around them in the middle of the road, wearing masks of irritation, every third or fourth giving them bizarre expressions as they passed. So they _could_ be seen.

"Oh my god…"

Tears pricked Auden's eyes. What if Nick had seen her? What was he doing in London? He wasn't supposed to be in London. How could he afford the trip? Grelle had to drag Auden out of the road, clutched onto her arm as she was. Once they were safely across the street, Grelle pulled her over to a bench and sat her down.

" _What_ is going on?"

Auden's breath was coming as it once had, deep and inconsistent, sometimes shallow, not very easily. Oh god, Nick. She might faint again. _Nick._

"I…I saw him," she managed to say. Her eyes were locked, focused out over nothing as she reviewed her recent memory and tried to puzzle out if it had been him she'd seen. It could have been someone else, right? How many people lived in London? Eight and a half million? And that wasn't even including tourists, so—

"Saw _who,_ Auden?"

Her eyes flicked up to Grelle. "Nick."

Grelle's expression faltered. "Are you certain?"

Auden shook her head. No, no she wasn't. She wasn't _certain_. She couldn't be. But she was. That had been him. It _had_ been.

Grelle sat down next to her. "When? Just now? Crossing the street?"

Auden nodded, swallowing. Her hands were shaking so she tucked them against her body and pressed her bottom onto the bench. Anything to keep her in reality. Anything to keep her from the memories that were already surfacing. Nick's face just inches from hers in the dark. His hand clamped down over her mouth…

" _Auden._ "

She'd started to tip over and Grelle had grabbed her upper arm, pulling her straight. She took hold of Auden's face as well, turning her chin so that she had no choice but to look in Grelle's eyes.

"You're safe, darling."

The tears welled up all over again. "What if he saw me?" she whispered.

"Well, to begin with, we don't even know if it was him. What does he look like?"

His face was seared into her memory, but she didn't know if she could describe him. "He's blonde," she said. "His hair kind of, kind of sticks up in the front… He has blue eyes, his—his nose is, is long…he…" She realized now how nondescript Nick was if you didn't already know him. No distinguishing marks or features. She would have had a hard time describing him if she'd been looking at a photograph while she did it.

"Could you draw him, darling?"

Auden swallowed. She hadn't thought of that. Looking at Grelle, she nodded.

"All right, well, when we get home, you'll draw him and I'll try to think if I saw him when we crossed. All right?"

Taking a breath, Auden nodded again.

"Good. In the meantime I think it's safe to assume he didn't notice, even if it _was_ him. People you used to know shouldn't be able to see you at all, even when you're visible to others. That wouldn't make much sense, now would it?"

Auden supposed not. She looked at Grelle. "Has someone from your old life ever turned up where _you_ were living?"

Grelle shook her head. "People couldn't travel as easily then and anyone who might have known me in my human life is long since dead."

Auden wished Nick was long since dead. She wished her dad was long since dead. Same to the girls at school, the whole school in fact, and—her hands had balled into fists and her nails had drawn blood from her palms. She sucked in a painful breath and released her grip.

"Oh, darling…" Grelle tsked and took hold of Auden's hands even as they started to heal. She retrieved a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped the skin clean. "It'll be all right. I promise."

It seemed to Auden like that wasn't something Grelle could promise. It didn't make her feel better. In fact, she kind of resented it. That's what people always said: things would be all right. They never were. They never had been. Just when she had started to feel at home, to feel comfortable in her own skin, everything had to fall apart again and the people she'd been beginning to think of as her family had to go and say that stupid phrase. It was _not_ all right. And she was tired of being told that it would be.

Auden got up from the bench and started walking away. Her sudden departure startled Grelle, who took only a second or two to catch up.

"Hang on a moment—" she started to say, but Auden interrupted her, coming to a halt and giving her a fierce stare.

"I don't want to talk, Grelle."

Grelle blinked. Her mouth opened and for a moment Auden wanted to strangle her for even thinking about saying something, but her lips closed and she fell silent. Auden started up again. She'd get some paper. She'd get some paper and she'd draw a picture of Nick's horrible face and if Grelle couldn't be sure if she'd seen him or not, well…Auden didn't know what she'd do then.


	15. Solitude and Terror

Brighton was fast approaching with the coming weekend, and Sebastian had just finished the last of the calls for final preparations. Grelle had refused to let him do any of the catering for any part of the celebration and he must have spoken with a hundred people on the phone in order to make sure everything would be correct. He was just hanging up with the hotel when Grelle and Auden's souls entered his radius. Auden was incredibly upset, a good percentage of it directed at Grelle herself. He could sense it even all the way up the street.

They came in yelling.

"— _never_ answer _any_ of my questions!" Auden shrieked as she passed through the door.

"Auden—"

" _No._ You don't! Don't say that you do because you _don't._ "

"Good evening," Sebastian said, having come to greet them in the foyer as he always did, but they both ignored him.

"I have answered every single one of your questions as best I can and as much as I'm allowed to!"

The answer wasn't good enough for Auden and she stomped upstairs, pausing on the landing to spit a few more words over the railing: "Sod that!"

Grelle's mouth fell open. " _Excuse_ me?"

"Sod that, and sod you, and sod bloody everything!" Auden swept down the hall and slammed her door shut. Sebastian looked at Grelle.

"Bad day?" he asked.

"She had a bit of a scare."

"And a bit of a row apparently."

Grelle did not find that amusing. Her lids dropped down to veil her eyes and she just looked at him like that for a moment before walking away. He caught her hand and pulled her back, wrapping his arms around her so she couldn't get away.

"What happened?"

She didn't look at him. "Auden thinks she saw Nick today."

" _Nick_ Nick?"

Grelle nodded. "We stopped in a coffee shop so she could draw me a picture of what he looks like because she couldn't wait until we were home, but I couldn't remember seeing him, and that set her off, and here we are."

"It sounds like a weekend away will be good for everybody, hm?" he said.

"What if it _was_ him, Sebastian?"

Grelle looked up finally, right into his eyes, a little spark of genuine fear contained within her own. He pushed her hair out of her face, holding her close even as she leaned back to better see him.

"What is there to fear, my love? You are a reaper and I am a demon, and Auden is ours to take care of."

"I just don't want her to have to relive any more of her trauma," Grelle replied. "I want her to feel safe."

"She will have to come to that on her own terms," Sebastian replied.

Grelle sighed. "Will you talk to her?"

"I will leave her alone for an hour or so, and _then_ I will talk to her. Where is the picture?"

"Auden has it."

Sebastian nodded and was quiet. He would ask her to show it to him and would keep an eye out from then following. London was full of souls, full of faces, and he didn't have time to hunt the bastard down if he _was_ in the city, but the least he could do was be vigilant while he could be. And he would be.

"Sebastian?"

"Hm?"

"Do you have any regrets?" Grelle's eyebrows pulled together as she looked at him, concerned. "About the last hundred and twenty-five years, I mean."

"Many, my love," he said and drew her hand up to his lips to kiss her knuckles. "None of them involving my decision to stay with you."

Grelle released a deep breath through her nose and looked away, but did secure the hand he'd kissed around his neck. Silent, she looked down the hallway, over the sitting room, through the doors that led out to the small garden behind the house, lost in thought.

How could he even begin to comprehend what it was that she must feel toward him? One hundred and twenty-five years was a long time, certainly, but relatively speaking it was quiet different for Grelle than it was for him. One hundred and twenty-five years equated to over one-third of her entire life. More than one-third of her years on the earth had been spent attached to him. By comparison his time with her was a mere dot on an otherwise endless line. One thing he knew was this: that dot had steadily expanded, consuming space on that line from its origin onward for about as far ahead as Sebastian was willing to let himself think. That, and he feared what it might be like to lose her.

"The garden needs watered," she said and detached herself from him.

"Grelle."

She paused at the sliding glass door.

"It will be all right."

Letting a short breath out her nose, she looked back at him. "Somehow I get the feeling that it won't be."

She went outside then, and closed the door behind her. He would leave her be. Grelle wasn't typically given to solitude, so when she sought it out, Sebastian took particular notice. A weekend at the ocean was in order for all of them.

* * *

The breeze that blew in on the open window smelled like city—petrol and rubber and the wet scent of the Thames. Auden would have gone over to Hyde Park for fresher air, but she didn't want to leave the house. What if Nick was out there? What if Nick was _at_ Hyde Park? The napkin she'd drawn his picture on was balled up in her hand and she clutched it to her chest, curled in a chair in front of her window. She didn't know how long she'd been sitting like that.

A soft knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," she whispered without realizing.

Her eyes were fixed out over Mayfair, over what she could see of tops of buildings, hunting unconsciously for Nick though she could see nothing, hunting her mind for the memory of his face on the street. She'd chased it down so roughly that almost none of that moment crossing the road felt real anymore. She couldn't be sure she'd seen anything.

Sebastian put his hand on her shoulder. She jumped, halfway out of her chair before she realized it was him.

"I'm sorry. I thought you heard my knock."

"I did…" Didn't she? He eased her back down into her seat and pulled one over for himself.

"Grelle told me what happened."

Auden looked away. Of course she had. Grelle told Sebastian everything. Then again, Auden wasn't exactly sorry. It was probably better for him to know.

"May I see the picture you drew?"

He smiled gently, leaning forward in his chair. Auden looked down at the crumpled napkin in her hand. Her grip and sweaty palm had completely destroyed it.

"I…I'll have to draw another," she said, carefully peeling the napkin apart to see if any of the pencil lines had survived, which of course they hadn't. She looked at Sebastian and he just smiled again.

"If that's not too much trouble?" he said.

Auden shook her head. "No. No, I can do it."

Getting up, she went over to her desk and grabbed a pencil and a piece of paper and sat down. Sebastian waited while she sketched Nick again, bigger now and much clearer. She'd seen his face so many times, so many times too close to her own. Her hands started to shake, but she steadied them, took a deep breath and finished the drawing. She brought the paper over to Sebastian and offered it to him.

He took it, examined her work closely without saying anything for a long, long time.

"He has the eyes of an abuser," he said after a moment. "I have seen them many times before." Looking up, he held the sketch out to her. "I will look for him every chance I get."

She took the paper back, turned her eyes to the floor. "Thank you."

"Certainly." A space of quiet and then, "Would you like to go for a walk?"

Auden nodded. If Sebastian was there, she could probably manage going out of the house.

* * *

She was such a strange child. As soon as Sebastian left the house with Auden, she brightened up, sticking close to his side as they headed south. He knew she liked to go down and look at Buckingham Palace—she'd only done it four thousand times—even though the building was difficult to see through the fence, so he led her in its direction, strolling through Green Park to get there.

"What time does our train leave for Brighton?" Auden asked.

The frightened, angry aura around her soul was already beginning to wane. "Three o'clock," Sebastian replied. "Not long after you and Grelle are off for the day."

She nodded. "All right."

"You're looking forward to it, I hope?"

Again, she nodded. "Very much. I haven't ever swum in salt water."

"It won't be quite warm enough to swim," Sebastian chuckled. Not that it was ever warm enough to swim. It _was_ the English Channel, after all. Anyone wishing to do so could only hope for temperatures approaching tolerable, anything other than that was asking too much. Auden made a face at him like she was going to try it anyway.

On the other end of Green Park, Buckingham Palace became visible through the trees and Auden went hurrying off to get closer. Sebastian made sure he could still sense her soul, but otherwise let her alone, turning his attention instead to the groups of tourists surrounding the landmark. In a city of nearly nine million, what were the chances that Auden had actually beheld her former attacker, and one who lived nearly two hundred miles away? It was highly unlikely that Nick was there at all, much less in a proximity to Auden.

The thought had hardly entered his mind when, at once, Auden's aura went black.

* * *

Nick. It was him. He was there again. She'd seen him—she had, she had. There, right there, just over her shoulder. Her heart beat and sent a wash of ice through her veins and she whirled around to get a better look, but he was gone.

Sebastian came swooping down upon her in the same instant.

"What is it? What's happened?"

He circled around her and Auden continued to turn circles as well, the pair of them spiraling around each other as Auden searched for Nick and Sebastian looked for signs of injury.

"I saw him I saw him I saw him," Auden breathed, searching still.

"Nick?"

"Yes!"

"Where?"

Auden pointed, or gestured, or did something to indicate the area where she'd noticed Nick. She shouldn't have gone outside, shouldn't have, shouldn't have, she shouldn't have come to such a popular place. Of course Nick would be at Buckingham Palace, of course, of course.

"I do not see him."

"He was _there_."

She turned to look at Sebastian finally and jumped back when she saw that his eyes were glowing. They flicked rapidly over every face around them and then some, illuminated with purple-red light. Was it just her or had his fangs grown longer?

"I do not see him," he said again, and looked down at her. His eyes were their customary red once more.

" _I_ did _._ "

"You're certain?"

Auden nodded. Sebastian looked out again, careful and slow. Auden clutched her hands together, watching his face, watching him look, feeling her heartbeat in her throat. He'd find him. Sebastian would find Nick. He would, he would.

"He is not visible to me." Sebastian shook his head. "Perhaps if I knew what his soul felt like, I could locate him if he were here."

If? Auden swallowed. _If?_ Oh, god. He didn't believe her. He didn't believe her! She couldn't find any words before he was sweeping her away, back toward Green Park, back to the house. She let him usher her along in terrified silence. At first, she hadn't been sure herself, but now, _now_ there was no doubt in her mind. Her eyes—they'd connected with Nick's in the crowd.

* * *

The bloody hose was leaking all over. Holes that spit little streams of water all over the patio, all over the lawn. Grelle had gone into the house to look for repair tape, but the best she'd been able to find was electrical, so she sat on the grass and cut strips with her teeth and wrapped them around and around the plastic tube. She'd just gone over to the spigot to turn the water on again when Sebastian and Auden came dashing in through the garage.

"Where were the two of you?" Grelle asked. She hadn't even noticed them go out.

Neither answered, moving quickly across the lawn, Sebastian pushing Auden from behind. "Go inside," he said to her and she obeyed. Sebastian shut and secured the door behind her.

"Where'd you go?" Grelle asked.

"For a walk."

"And did you run into a pack of rabid wolves on your way back? Why'd you send Auden in like that?" Grelle turned on the hose and water leaked out from underneath the electrical tape.

"She thinks she saw Nick again," Sebastian replied.

" _Thinks?_ "

"That's what she said."

"Well did she?"

"I don't know."

"Did _you?_ "

He shook his head.

Gods, what rotten timing. Grelle turned the water off. How odd for Auden to have seen Nick twice in one day. Sebastian himself looked rather ruffled—no, not ruffled. Irritated. Grelle knew that face.

"You don't believe her, do you?"

"I never said that."

That was as good as an admission. Grelle frowned at him. "Why would she make something like that up?"

"I don't think she's making it up," he replied. "I think she really did see him. Whether or not he was actually _there…_ "

"So she's in a state of psychosis now?"

"I didn't say that either."

Grelle rolled her eyes. "You men, you're all the same. Always blaming the woman."

She saw him form a comment, then watched as he bit it back and moved toward the house without saying anything. Grelle followed.

"What?What were you going to say?"

"Nothing, Grelle."

He nearly had the door open but Grelle covered the distance between them in a snap and grabbed his arm.

" _What?_ "

"Merely that you should perhaps refrain from excluding yourself from the first category."

Her breath hitched. Those words went right for her throat, stuck a needle into her heart and then twisted.

You'd think after a hundred and twenty-five years in a relationship, one would be a little more secure. But she wasn't. She never had been. She never doubted Sebastian, knowing that he could and would choose to leave if he no longer loved or cared for her, but she doubted herself. Doubted that she was worthy of him. Doubted that she deserved even the smallest sliver of the happiness she'd managed to find. The anniversary, the party, the public display of that very same relationship had had her worried for a while now. Auden's troubles had simply brought it to the surface. Then Sebastian had to go and say a thing like that. She just looked at him.

He didn't say anything.

* * *

When Auden went up to her room, she moved straight to the window to pull it shut. There, down on the street, she could have sworn she saw a crop of blonde hair duck out of view.


	16. Wound Up

Sebastian sensed nothing but anxiety from Auden's soul any time she was within his radius over the next day into the evening and then into the night. Grelle had similar findings to report when they returned from Dispatch. Auden was a bundle of nerves and it was grating on him to be so close to such an aura for so long—especially with all the pent up energy he'd been storing holding his human form. That, and the added stress of managing the gallery and keeping everything on schedule for Brighton had him rather irritable by the end of the day on Wednesday. So when The Grand Brighton called to tell him they'd lost Auden's additional room reservation, the news did not go over very well.

" _What?_ "

"I'm afraid so, sir. And I do apologize, but—"

"Don't apologize. Correct the error."

"Sir—"

"Figure something out or I will cancel every other reservation we've made for the weekend and you can let fifty of your best rooms sit empty. Understood?"

"Um—"

" _Understood?_ "

"Yes, sir. We'll get on that, sir, and call you right back."

Sebastian had just hung up.

Why did people throw parties like this? Why did people even celebrate anything at all? More to the point, why had he _agreed to do it?_ He and Grelle had hardly spoken to one another since Auden had made her first claims at sighting Nick and the two of them had argued. She was busy at Dispatch dealing with Auden all day, and he was busy with all the aforementioned nonsense, so she went directly to bed and he sat awake and stewed. What conversations they did have centered on what was or was not going wrong with the party, so what was the point of the thing in the first place? Needing a weekend away to recover from a weekend away was the opposite of a desirable outcome. They were supposed to be celebrating their anniversary and could barely get a civil set of words out. The knot at the base of his neck was killing him.

What's more, Auden kept saying she'd seen Nick on the street outside the house. Grelle could not confirm and Sebastian wanted to believe her but was so fed up with the whole situation that he'd just nodded and said he would watch for him.

He didn't. Nick wasn't there, so there wasn't a point Sebastian could see to that either.

It was late Thursday night when he finally got in, having spent all day ensuring things at the gallery would run smoothly without him there. Grelle was on the chaise lounge in front of the window in their bedroom, reading. He hadn't apologized to her for what he'd said. He shouldn't have said anything, or said something else, but as always he was compelled to be truthful so he'd said what had been on his mind, insensitive and painful though it was. There _had_ been a time when Grelle had been confusing, or perhaps he just hadn't understood her, and though those days were long gone, their memory remained, sometimes surfaced and colored his thoughts. But she was a woman, and had always been a woman, if for no other reason than because _she_ knew she was. He'd been tied up in knots about what he'd said to her along with everything else.

She looked so beautiful sitting there in the moonlight, the orange glow of the lamp beside her lighting the pages of her book. _Wuthering Heights._ She always read it when she was upset. It was her favorite. Her chainsaw sat snug on the floor against the chaise, ready for an early shift the following morning.

"Hello," he said, pausing in the doorway.

She glanced up at him, just a flick of her eyes.

"Everything is in order for tomorrow," he continued. "The hotel was able to find Auden a room after all."

"Good."

"I nearly forgot to book her a train ticket, but she reminded me so that's taken care of as well. We should arrive in Brighton just after four."

Shutting her book with a little snap, Grelle got up from the chaise and swept by him to go into the closet. Sebastian gritted his teeth. All he wanted was for things to feel usual between them. He followed her, leaned against the doorframe.

"Do you want to do this anymore?"

" _Do you?_ "

She couldn't find what she was looking for in her dresser apparently and slammed the drawer shut, moving on to his and rifling through everything.

"Yes, Grelle."

"Really? You could have fooled me."

"And you?"

"What?"

"Do _you_ want to do this?"

She found what she was looking for—one of his old nightshirts that he hadn't worn in years—and yanked it out of the drawer. "I've always loved you more than you love me," she spat and pushed past him to go into the bathroom.

Sebastian bit the inside of his bottom lip. The metallic taste of blood met his tongue, but he continued to bite down until he was certain he'd contained the flare of anger her words had ignited before he followed her.

"What's gotten into you?" he asked and it came out bitterly.

"What do you think?" She wrapped a rubber band around her hair and let it go with an angry snap.

"I did not mean the things I said, Grelle."

"Then why did you say them?"

She'd gone to the tub and turned on the tap, but forgotten to plug the drain and so the stream of water that roared down into the basin just continued to flow out. Frustrated, she turned off the water and then sat on the edge of the tub and put her face in her hands.

"I'm sorry, Grelle."

"Sorry doesn't always fix things, Sebastian."

He was silent. The faucet dripped. After a moment, Grelle got up and left the bathroom and did not return until she'd changed out of her clothes and into the nightshirt. He watched her as she went to the sink to brush her teeth, watched her collect her toothbrush and toothpaste, watched her long, smooth legs shift her weight from one to the other in front of the vanity.

"I spoke with Auden," she said. "Before she went to bed. She's asked that we stop telling her things will be all right."

"But they will."

"No, Sebastian, actually I agree with her. We always say that. Everyone does. 'Things will be all right.' It doesn't help any. It doesn't change anything. It doesn't make her memories of Nick go away and it doesn't reverse what's been said or done."

"Nick is just that, though—a memory."

"Auden is terrified, Sebastian. _Terrified._ She can't walk down the street without looking for him around every corner."

"She could easily overpower him if he did come," he replied.

"Oh, well you can have a jolly good time explaining that to her," she snapped, "because I've only done it about a million by now."

Overwhelmed, Grelle had to set her toothbrush down. It didn't even have toothpaste on it yet. Her hands braced against the counter and she leaned over it, the muscles in her arms taut. She took in a deep breath and let it shakily out. Tears had welled up in her eyes.

"Grelle…"

Sebastian stepped forward, reached out to her and placed a hand on her arm. Surprised, she looked over at him, but did not pull away. Instead a little of the tension went out of her muscles and her face fell into an apologetic expression.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be cross, I just… I'm frustrated."

"You're not alone."

She nodded. "I know."

Of course she did. She could always sense his moods. That was probably most of the reason why she'd been so curt with him over the last two days. He'd been irritated, so she'd kept her distance. And he'd pushed her away. Oh, how often it was that he buggered things up with her. You'd think after one hundred and twenty-five years he would have learned. She moved away to finish brushing her teeth.

Sebastian hesitated a moment, but left her alone, going into the closet to change clothes himself. He shut his eyes while he was there, sought out Auden's soul. He'd been dampening his senses to keep from going absolutely mad, so he could only stand several seconds of her anxious aura before he had to close the gate again. She was upstairs. Perfectly safe.

"Grelle?" he called.

"Hm?" The water turned on and she spit into the sink.

"I'm sorry."

There was a beat of silence, and then, "I know you are, love." Another beat. "Thank you for apologizing."

That should have made him feel better, but it didn't. The party, Auden, the tension of holding this damned human form. It was all still eating away at him, still winding him up. He returned to the bathroom and stood in the doorway while Grelle washed her face, worked lotion into her hands. After a moment, he came forward and stood behind her, breathing in that cold, clear scent that always lingered on the air around her.

She reached for a brush, but he stopped her, wrapping his arms around her waist and letting his hands settle low on her hips. She looked back at him over her shoulder as he pulled her close, nestled her body perfectly against his own.

"I do love you. More than I know how to express."

"I love you, too," she said softly.

He pressed his lips to her cheek, then her neck, and she shut her eyes and leaned against him, so he kissed her more intently, moved to her mouth. Grelle responded in kind, kissing him, reaching up to secure her hand around the back of his head. Sebastian turned her round in his arms, still holding tight, picked her up, and carried her into the bedroom.

* * *

Almost as soon as she and Grelle had gotten home, Auden went up to her room to go to bed. Of course going to bed didn't exactly mean going to sleep, but she felt guilty. Something was off between Grelle and Sebastian, and while she knew she couldn't be to blame for that, her own problems certainly hadn't been helping. Sebastian didn't believe her about Nick, Grelle did, and that was just another added stress. She didn't want to bother Grelle any more than she had to. Instead, she sat up to draw.

She didn't know what she was working on. Something dark, lots of greens and blues and blacks, that hadn't quite taken form yet. The Prismacolor pencils Sebastian had given her moved so smoothly across the page. She wasn't good enough to have such expensive supplies. She couldn't even figure out what she was trying to draw.

A representation of her mind, perhaps. Her black pencil moved across the page in short, thick, and worried strokes. Anxious was just her baseline now. She'd forgotten what it felt like not to be paranoid.

Brighton would be good. Nick wouldn't be in Brighton. She'd be able to see the ocean, and swim in it. Grelle and Sebastian would finally be able to get the party out of the way. She was counting down the hours until three o'clock tomorrow.

A form took shape out of the black and the blue. An animal shape. Wings…a beak…a bird. It was a hawk. She drew a little field mouse clutched up in its talons.

An hour passed and Auden worked, adding browns and reds. The picture didn't exactly improve. It became messy, busy, unfocused, and the more she worked on it, the worse it got. Eventually she gave up when a headache started to set in between her eyes. She left the drawing on her desk and got up to get ready for bed.

She washed her face, paused for a moment to study her reflection. Her cheeks had filled in finally, but all of the worrying she'd been doing lately had begun to thin them out again. She still wasn't used to her eyes. They startled her every time she looked in a mirror. That strange phosphorescent green. She didn't think she would ever get used to it.

Before climbing into bed, she checked her Death Scythe tucked carefully away in the closet. She and Grelle had an early shift in the morning and such a short break that they'd been allowed to keep them checked out. Getting into bed, she heard footsteps on the stairs, Sebastian coming home. She glanced at the clock. It was late. Things must have taken long at the gallery. She wondered if Grelle was still awake as she settled down and snuggled into the covers, wondered if she would be upset at the time. It took Auden a few good minutes and some breathing exercises to get rid of that clogged feeling in her chest, like her lungs were full of cotton balls. It didn't go away completely, but she managed to relax enough to close her eyes. Minutes later she was sleeping.

"…den…"

A voice.

"Auden…"

A familiar voice.

" _Auden._ "

She opened her eyes.

And there was Nick smiling down at her.


	17. Forms of Shadows

"Oh my god…"

That cotton ball feeling was back in an instant, only a thousand times worse, an anvil pressing down on her sternum and forcing shallow breath. She shut her eyes, _squeezed_ them shut, but that only made Nick laugh. He was real. Oh god, he was real.

"You think you're surprised? Ha…should've seen me when you turned up on the block crossing by Trafalgar. I thought I'd lost my head."

He started to laugh again and Auden shot out of her bed, but she didn't get far. Nick grabbed her ankle and yanked her back and she collapsed in a nervous heap on the edge of the mattress. How had he found her? How had he gotten inside?

"H-how did you get here?" Auden gasped, frightened tears already filling her eyes and tangling up her throat.

"You're blooming asking me how _I_ got here? I came down on the train with some mates. Business trip. A little business, mostly pleasure."

Auden started to shake. She inched away from him—if she could just get to her Death Scythe—but he saw the movement and snapped her arm up in his grasp, pulling her upright to look into his eyes.

"More to the point, how did _you_ get here? You're supposed to be bloody dead." He yanked on her arm, bringing her closer, and surveyed from head to toe. Auden was paralyzed with fear. "I found your body."

Auden didn't know how to answer him, and she couldn't have even if she did. She couldn't move. Not her legs, not her arms, not her lips or her tongue. Nick was here. _Nick_ was _here_. He stared deep into her eyes.

"What _are_ you?"

The tears spilled over. Nick was here, he was here in her room and she hadn't escaped him. Even in death she hadn't escaped him. Her whole body started to shudder and she couldn't get it under control. Nick looked at her with eyes glimmering in fascination. He _was_ witnessing the seemingly impossible.

"After I saw you on the street, I followed you and that red fox back here," he said. "Had to make sure I wasn't imagining things."

So he had been watching her. He'd gone to Buckingham because he'd followed her there. She _had_ seen him on the street. And here he was.

"Took a couple more times for me to believe my eyes. How are you _alive?_ "

"How did you get inside?"

"Followed that tall fellow in from the street. Didn't even notice me." He grinned, proud of himself. "Had to get a better look at you." He reached out a hand and stroked her chin. "You're still so pretty, Auden."

"Don't touch me."

She tried to slap his hand away, but he seized a fistful of her hair and pulled hard. Gasping, Auden tipped forward, but Nick didn't let her fall. He held her up by her hair and looked into her face.

"I'd like to see what this new body of yours can do."

 _No_. She struggled, but the effort was lost to her fear. _No_. Nick shoved her down onto the mattress and kneeled on her stomach. _No_. He pinned her arms above her head. Grelle. Sebastian! If she called for them, they'd come, they were just downstairs. They'd hear.

Auden opened her mouth and drew in a breath to scream, but Nick clamped his hand over her face.

"Don't you even think about it," he whispered. He was only inches from her. Like he always had been. Fat tears rolled from Auden's eyes. Nick put his chapped lips on her neck. Auden started to sob. She was too scared to do anything else.

* * *

Sebastian had a hand pressed into the bare skin of Grelle's thigh, his other arm wrapped around her neck and shoulders, their lips locked firmly together, and her own hands on his waist, his ribs, as she started to slide his shirt off over his head when he sensed something and broke from her. An unfamiliar soul.

"What is it?" Grelle asked, but he had already flown the room.

He didn't feel the stairs beneath his feet as he ascended, nor Auden's door as he threw it open. Her soul cried out to him in absolute anguish and that other, unfamiliar soul beat greedily right on top of hers.

A face looked over at him from the bed in surprise—a face he recognized.

" _You_ ," he hissed.

At once the room was engulfed in shadows.

Auden had done a remarkable job in her depiction of Nick's face Sebastian mused as he leapt to the bed, snatched the bastard up by the throat with a hand black, shiny, and clawed. He hurled Nick down, sent him to the floor where he landed gasping and scrambling away. Nick backed himself up against the wall, staring at Sebastian.

" _Bleeding hell_ …" he breathed.

Sebastian stepped from the bed, heels clicking against the wood floor. His eyes cast points of illumination right into Nick's very heart and quickly predicted the direction he would try to run. Sebastian's claws snapped out before Nick got the chance, grabbing him and slamming him back against the wall. The room shuddered. Nick choked.

Grelle appeared in the doorframe, chainsaw at the ready. She dropped it as soon as she saw what was going on, running to the bed and Auden who had hardly moved since Sebastian had appeared. Grelle said something to her, but Sebastian was too busy watching Nick's face turn purple and his eyes bulge out of his skull to hear her.

"Sebastian! Sebastian, let go! You'll kill him!"

Yes, that was exactly what he planned to do. Nick kicked pitifully, his toes only connecting with the air. Sebastian grinned, his sharp teeth shining.

"Sebastian!"

Grelle's hand was on his shoulder, pulling, and he would not stand for that. He pushed her back, sending her sliding across the floor on her feet all the way to the doorframe where she caught herself and picked up her chainsaw.

No. No, it was too late for that. She could not stop him now.

With one powerful squeeze, Sebastian punctured Nick's throat. Five holes, one for every finger. He tossed the body toward Grelle and already it was bleeding and gasping and writhing on the floor. Sebastian flew to Auden, gathered her up in his arms and wrapped her in his shadows. She trembled so fiercely the light of her soul flickered with it.

Grelle went to Nick. She could do nothing. He was as good as dead. Sebastian had made sure of that.

"Oh, bugger all!"

Grelle revved up her chainsaw and slammed it down into Nick's chest. His Record came spilling out into the air along with the blood, illuminating her face and sending her hair flying in the wind generated by the speed at which she extracted it. Only seconds later, the room was dark again, full of his shadows.

"You'd better hope he was on somebody's To Die list," Grelle snapped, pointing a finger at Sebastian.

He growled, a deep guttural sound that reverberated through his entire being. The vibrations passed through Auden, warmed her, and he curled his arms around her shoulders, holding on and stroking her hair. She clutched onto him as well, knuckles white in the grip that she had on his forearm which crossed over her collarbone, her mouth open and her ribs shuddering with each incomplete breath she took in. Tears stained her cheeks and he wiped them away, the growl rumbling through him still.

"Did he hurt you, darling?" Grelle asked, coming over, her chainsaw dripping blood all over the floor. "Did he hurt you?"

Auden couldn't get enough air in to answer, but it was clear enough. Bruises were forming on her wrists, on her throat. On her face and cheeks. Her clothing was all askew.

"Nick," she gasped.

"Yes, darling."

"He's…dead."

"Yes, darling."

Auden broke down. Tremendous, wracking sobs tore through her body, and she would have collapsed had Sebastian not been holding her up. She clawed at him, her nails digging desperately into his forearms, searching for help, for comfort, so he held her tighter, growling again.

"I have to call Dispatch right away," Grelle said. "Explain what happened."

"Go," Sebastian replied.

Grelle disappeared.

Auden continued to shiver and paw at him, though he hardly felt it. Her choking tears were muffled by his shadows. He held onto her as tight as he dared, stroked her hair, and let that feral snarl rumble through him. The sound seemed to be warming the light of her soul, so he kept it up. Auden couldn't maintain her anxiety attack indefinitely, so he would hold her until she was calm. He was patient.

Grelle's voice trailed in from the hallway.

"…Management, please. Yes. This is Grelle Sutcliff. Yes, thank you."

He had not sensed Nick's soul until that very moment. Ordinarily Sebastian would have been able to feel him a long way off, but he'd been keeping his senses so dull to keep from going absolutely mad around Auden that he would have been hard pressed to sense someone in a radius less than a foot. He'd turned himself off to Auden and now look where they were. It wasn't until he'd unconsciously dropped his barrier kissing Grelle that he'd noticed Nick. How selfish of him.

A deep, deep breath filled Auden's lungs. She hiccupped, shaking still, though now it was because of tired effort. She turned her face up at Sebastian, streaked with tears, eyes red and swollen.

"Is—is this…what you're—you're supposed to look like?" she asked.

Sebastian bowed his head in a yes. Swallowing, she looked back out over the room. Her hands closed in a firm grip around his arm.

"Thank you," she whispered.

She seemed to want to sit, so Sebastian eased her down, let her curl up weakly on the bed and then curled up around her. She locked her hand with his, shivering. Grelle came back into the room.

"William's on his way down," she said.

Her eyes turned to Auden and an expression of sorrow took over her features. She came to the bed and sat down next to them, taking Auden's feet onto her lap and brushing her fingers gently across her ankles.

"I'm so sorry, darling," she said.

Auden did not say anything, just squeezed a few final tears from her eyes when she shut them. Grelle looked at Sebastian, and he looked back, thinking for a moment that she might say something about how he shouldn't have done it, about how killing Nick would result in all kinds of trouble, but she didn't. Instead they sat in silence for several minutes until Auden sat up.

"I—I don't want to be in here anymore," she said. "I want to go upstairs."

"You can't leave the room until William gives the okay," Grelle replied.

"I can't—I don't, I don't want to be in here anymore." Auden's trembling increased.

"Auden."

"Please!"

" _Let her, Grelle_."

The vehemence of his words brought a startled reaction to Grelle's face and she shifted back. Sebastian would not let her Shinigami rules damage Auden any longer, nor would he be negligent. Grelle could not sense how delicate Auden's soul was, how desperately she was trying to hang on to a shred of sanity. She was already so frightened that the sight of his true form had hardly even affected her. She couldn't be more scared than she already was. He held Grelle's eye until she relented.

Helping Auden to her feet, Sebastian held her hand to lead her out of the room. They skirted carefully around Nick's corpse and the blood pooling around it. Her knees were weak on the stairs, but they managed. His shadows followed them through the house, coiling over the walls and the stairs and the banister. At the top, he took Auden into the fifth floor bedroom, walked her to the bed, and helped her to sit down.

"Relax," he breathed and she nodded.

As soon as Auden's breathing and pulse had slowed, Sebastian left her momentarily to fetch her a few things, pausing just beyond the door to ensure her soul did not flicker too much as he left.

* * *

The door opened again, and when Sebastian came in this time, he looked like he always had. Only his hair was black. His eyes were red instead of purple. No claws, no heels. Just Sebastian.

The logical portion of her brain tried to tell her that she should have been afraid of him, but another portion entirely overpowered it. She wasn't scared. On the contrary. When she'd heard him come in, seen Nick look over in a panic, and then watched Sebastian transform in the blink of an eye the only thought that had run through her mind was, "Makes sense," and that was all.

The same voice had flitted other little thoughts as well while her panic had kept her inert, while Sebastian had scooped her up and warmed her to the very core and she hadn't been able to stop sobbing. How beautiful, how fascinating. How fantastic. So this is what demons look like. She didn't quite know what to make of it.

Sebastian came over to the bed and set all of her pillows down on top of it, arranging them carefully around and under her. A strange sound she wasn't quite sure if she could actually hear seemed to issue from him—a gentle rumble, like purring or distant thunder. She liked it. It made her feel cozy. Finished with the pillows, he straightened and looked down at her.

"I have brought this for you," he said.

In his hands was a plush mouse, perhaps a foot long with another foot of pink velvet tail. It looked incredibly soft, white fur pristinely clean, yarn whiskers still twined together, and in spite of its condition Auden got the feeling it was very, very old. Sebastian held it out.

"We have kept it for many years."

"Thank you," Auden whispered. She took the mouse from him and was surprised to find it was even softer than it looked. She brought it into her arms and breathed deep. A slight scent of dust and time reached her nose, but was quickly overpowered by another. Heather. Home.

"Grelle and I tried to adopt once before, in the early nineteen hundreds," Sebastian said and took a seat beside her. "We bought this then. It is clear things did not go as planned." He paused, thinking, then looked at her. "I believe it was meant for you."

Auden swallowed. Sebastian was different somehow. Much more relaxed, incredibly at ease. His movements were fluid instead of stilted, his smile genuine instead of strained. The way he looked at her, she got the feeling that he cared very deeply for her and none of it was feigned. She hugged the mouse to her body.

"Thank you," she said.

Sebastian brushed her hair back from her face, left for a moment, and returned with a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen. He helped her drink, take the pills, and refilled the glass when she emptied it. She should have been frightened of him, should have been scared for her life. When he'd transformed into that creature, that monster, that…demon. Auden should have been scared then, too. But she wasn't. Knowing what he looked like, knowing the kind of power he had… It made Auden feel safe. Really, truly safe.

"I am going to see to Grelle," he said. "Will you be all right here?"

Auden nodded.

"Good." He stood up, brushed his fingers through her hair one final time. "Rest."

She nodded again, holding the mouse to her chest and breathing in deep as he left. The smell of heather, the smell of home. Home. _Home_.


	18. Easily

Grelle waited on the street for William so he wouldn't disturb Auden with the doorbell. The less noise that girl had to listen to, the better. She'd already been out there for a couple of minutes when the front door opened and Sebastian emerged, looking like a human once again. He came and stood beside her.

"William is certainly taking his time," he said.

"This isn't going to be good," Grelle replied.

Sebastian smiled. "Was it not you who said I needed to get out and kill something?"

Grelle did not smile back. "Not like this, Sebastian."

This was bad. _Very_ bad. Ten tons of bad. Demon killings were taken with utmost intensity at Dispatch. They had to be. Sure, Sebastian hadn't eaten Nick's soul or even tried to, but that didn't matter. He'd still killed a human being. Grelle could only pray that the rest of Nick's timeline had been short. If he was supposed to have lived for another fifty years, god only knew what kind of punishment she and Sebastian would face. Bad, bad, _bad._

"Surely the way you've handled the situation speaks volumes to Dispatch. You are trustworthy," Sebastian supplied.

She scoffed. Trustworthiness wasn't the point. A human being was _dead_. "You think they trust me down there?"

"Do they not?"

"Oh, please, Sebastian, I'm a reaper who lives with a demon and has a rather lengthy track record of killing humans herself. They wouldn't trust me with a ball point pen if given the choice."

"They gave you Auden."

"They had to. I filled out all the paperwork."

"You served as director of the Yorkshire Branch for many years."

"Yeah, and let's not forget who almost put _that_ right into the rubbish bin."

Sebastian looked down, censured. She'd come within a hair's breadth of losing her position as director when he'd consumed nine of the souls on her To Die list, and nearly destroyed their relationship in the process. Needless to say, at the end of her term they hadn't renewed her contract and she probably wouldn't see a leadership position ever again.

"I don't think you've grasped the gravity of the situation," Grelle said, shaking her head. "I could get suspended for this."

"And Auden?"

"She may be moved to another Division."

He bristled at that. "I will not let them take her."

Grelle drew in a breath. Gods, gods, gods. There wasn't much that could make this worse. And the night before they were supposed to head down to Brighton to boot. There was a dead body in her house bleeding all over the floor and she was supposed to be celebrating her anniversary the next day.

"Nick's Record," she said almost involuntarily.

Grelle shivered. She'd seen it. All of it. The years of abuse Nick had inflicted on Auden. Grelle had relived every single moment when she'd extracted his soul. It made her stomach turn just thinking about it, made her head swim and her knees go weak.

"Tell me," Sebastian said.

Grelle shook her head. "I can't." Her throat went tight and a couple of tears leaked over her eyes. If she'd known. If she'd known how bad it had been, maybe she could have helped sooner, maybe she could have—

"Grelle."

She looked up.

"What's done is done."

She could only shake her head. He was right. There was nothing they could do, nobody could take back the past. They could only deal with the aftermath and make their best attempt to pick up the pieces. Smiling sadly, Sebastian took her into his arms. He was warm, humming, purring that demon purr. Every bit of the tension he'd built up over the past few months had dissipated upon taking his true form. She was grateful for that, at least.

"Don't worry, my love," he said, kissing the top of her head.

On the far end of the street, a tall figure carrying a long set of pruners came into view. Grelle flagged William down. He approached at his usual brisk pace and reached the pair of them swiftly. He barely deigned to cast a disapproving glare on Sebastian before looking at Grelle.

"Thank you for coming," she said.

"Let's get this over with. I don't want to log any more overtime than absolutely necessary."

Nodding, Grelle went to the door and showed him inside.

"Where is the girl?"

"Upstairs," Grelle replied.

"Fifth floor," Sebastian added.

William set off, climbing the stairs without waiting to be shown the way. Once he reached the top, he went to Auden's door and knocked but entered before she had the chance to reply. Growling, Sebastian took off after him. By the time Grelle made it into the room, Auden was bolt upright on the bed with Sebastian in a protective posture at her side and William just in front of her. The latter crinkled his nose, then opened a file in his hands.

"Auden Lord. It has been brought to the attention of the Shinigami Dispatch Association that a human not on your To Die list was killed in your bedroom. Is this the case?"

"It—it is."

"Following being killed by a _demon,_ this human's soul was collected by another Shinigami who also did not possess his name on their To Die list. Is this the case?"

"Yes."

"Could you please identify for the record the demon and second Shinigami in question?"

"Sebastian Michaelis and Grelle Sutcliff."

"Thank you. What was your relationship to the deceased, Nicholas Drury?"

Auden looked down. "He was a friend of my dad's."

"Had you seen him before now?"

Auden answered in the affirmative and went on to describe the whole situation to William, at least as far as she understood it. The whole thing was a mystery, really. Even to Grelle. How had Nick been able to see Auden at all? How did he know where she lived?

"And how did he get into the house?" William asked.

"He said he followed Sebastian in from the street."

William flicked a pair of disapproving eyes over to Sebastian. "And you didn't sense him?"

"I had to keep my senses dull to keep myself sane," Sebastian replied. "Unless he had been within a foot of me, I would not have noticed him."

"Is that an excuse?"

Sebastian's eyes flashed purple; Grelle covered the short distance to grab his arm and hold him back. William had not flinched, but rather regarded Sebastian as he might some sad, wild animal chained to a stake.

"Honestly, what kind of demon have you become?"

Sebastian's lips curled up to expose his fangs. Grelle dug her nails into his arm.

"We've been under a lot of stress lately," she said. "That's all."

William just clicked his tongue. "You are responsible for the death of Nicholas Drury, correct?"

"He received far less than he deserved," Sebastian replied as he took an antagonizing half-step forward.

"Careful, demon." William shifted his Scythe, aiming the point ever so slightly in Sebastian's direction. "You owe your respect to the dead."

"I owe only as much respect to humankind as you might owe your cattle," Sebastian snarled. "They are but food to me."

Silent, William stared him down, eyes hard. Sebastian started to bristle again, that purr becoming a growl once more. A few seconds more, and they might have had another fight on their hands, but William broke contact and looked over at Grelle.

"May I see the body?"

Grelle nodded, stepping forward quickly. "I'll take you down."

Sebastian went to Auden who was trembling all over again, sitting down next to her on the bed and putting an arm around her shoulders as Grelle led William out and down to Auden's old room. She'd probably never sleep in _there_ again. Nick's body was right where they'd left it, ruining her floor with all that red, red blood. Her Death Scythe was over by the bed, still faintly illuminated by the soul stored within it.

William went immediately to the chainsaw and tapped the point of his pruners to the blade, transferring the soul to his Scythe. Saying nothing for a moment, he stepped over to Nick's body and inspected it very, very carefully.

"This was you, I take it?" he said, and gestured with the end of his Scythe at the raw, gaping hole in Nick's chest.

Grelle nodded.

"The demon?" He pointed at the puncture wounds in Nick's neck.

Grelle nodded again.

Muttering under his breath, William opened the file again and made a few notes.

"I'm sorry, Will. I didn't mean for this to happen, but we had no other—"

William just held up his hand and Grelle stopped talking. It was another agonizing three minutes of inspection and note-taking before he finally looked up.

"Well, the good news is he was slated to die today regardless. In the early morning."

Grelle nearly tipped over. " _Really?_ "

"Mm. In a hit and run on his way back to a hotel. We can take the body to Forensics, have them doctor him up, then deposit him in the road at the appropriate location."

"Well _that's_ convenient."

"Perhaps. A large fee will be incurred, and of course there's the necessary paperwork..."

Grelle shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I'll file it first thing tomorrow, and pay the fee."

"I will contact Othello and have him send one of his team down."

"Thank you."

"Certainly."

Shutting the file, William turned to go, but Grelle grabbed hold of his arm. Things just weren't adding up. This was too easy. A demon killed a human and a reaper who was not supposed to have collected the soul had done exactly that. This was a logistical hellhole about which William was uncannily calm. Grelle pulled him to a stop.

"Why could Nick see her?" she asked. "That's not supposed to happen."

"A reaper does not decide when he or she is visible." William tugged his arm out of Grelle's grasp, adjusted his glasses. His eyes flicked to the body on the floor. "Perhaps someone On High had different plans for Nicholas Drury."

* * *

It took more breathing exercises for Auden to calm down again once William and Grelle had gone downstairs. She shut her eyes, curled up with the mouse and tried to relax. Nick was gone. He couldn't hurt her anymore. Why was she still so afraid? Why couldn't she just let it go? It was so stupid, so aggravating.

"Auden."

She opened her eyes to look at Sebastian.

"You don't need to be angry with yourself for your emotions," he said. "This will take time. It's all right to be scared."

Those were the most comforting words she'd heard in a long time, perhaps in her life. Not a bandage or a glossing over, an empty promise that the future would be better or that the present wouldn't matter, but permission to be upset. Nobody had ever told her it was okay to feel the things she felt. It made her want to cry, but in a different way than before.

"Try to sleep," he said.

He started for the door, but the thought of him leaving sent a shot of chills down Auden's spine and a pit of worry into her stomach.

"Sebastian?"

"Hm?"

"Stay. Please. Until I fall asleep."

"Yes, my—" He cut himself off and a strange smile crossed his mouth, one that was filled with old memories and remorse as he shut his eyes for a moment and turned his face to the floor. When he looked back up, the expression was gone. "Yes, Auden."

She relaxed again and settled down onto the bed. Sebastian stepped over and dimmed the light on the nightstand, then took a seat just in front of her. He stayed there for a moment, stroking her hair, but rose soon after and climbed on beside her, taking her into his arms and letting her rest her head on one of them. He was gentle, familial, like a father, or how a father _should_ be. Auden closed her eyes, home at last.

* * *

William wouldn't have wanted to address any of their concerns even if he hadhad permission. Thankfully he was under strict orders from On High to keep silent. Besides, how could he have explained that Auden had been made visible in order to lure Nicholas Drury out? Just little hints and pushes to send him in the right direction and force a crossing of their paths. How could he explain that she had been used as bait, and they'd been counting on that vile demon to sense him before things went too far south? Well, nothing worked out perfectly, he supposed. At least they had their soul.

Nicholas Drury had been headed down a dark, dark path indeed. This business trip to London was just the beginning. Or perhaps it had begun four years ago, when he'd taken that job at the accounting firm with Auden's father and quickly invaded their family. Or perhaps even further back when his own father had punished him too harshly for failing to pick up his toys. Every human had a myriad of options for their life paths, spreading out before them in wide fans of actions that were carefully monitored as choices were made and portions of the path disappeared, those they _had_ chosen added to their Cinematic Record. The trajectory Nick had set himself on no longer held any shred of redemption. No matter what choices he might have made from then on out, they all led to one place: imbalance, destruction. War. Strange how one person could affect so much of the world. The butterfly effect, they called it. But it wasn't the first time. If a certain young man had simply been admitted to art school, then perhaps William would not have had to spend so much of the forties providing backup in Poland.

After considerable deliberation On High, it had been decided that Nicholas Drury ought to be extracted before the rest of his timeline could be completed—as happened occasionally, but not often. In fact, it was just as rare as deeming a soul worthy to resume its life. This was only the second time William had ever encountered such a situation in his long, unfortunate existence.

The paperwork was going to be a nightmare.

* * *

Auden's soul finally took on a stable glow as she fell asleep. It was by no means bright, by no means healthy. Just a sickly little light, but at least it was no longer flickering.

It was a long time before Grelle came up. Sebastian sensed two other Shinigami enter the house in that stretch. One was Othello, whose soul he recognized, the other must have been a member of his team. They were likely there to retrieve Nick's body and were soon gone. When Grelle did enter the room several minutes later, she looked completely exhausted. Sebastian raised his eyebrows at her and she smiled dubiously, shrugging and shaking her head.

"It's settled," she whispered.

"So easily?"

"I don't know. I…I'm quite shocked, honestly." She put her hand on her forehead and rubbed her fingers across it. "It doesn't make any sense. It should have been _worse…_ "

"Come here, my love."

She needed to sleep. Wishing for the situation to have gone more poorly than it already had made just as little sense as the ease with which things had apparently been resolved. He reached an arm out to her and she stepped quietly over to the bed, climbing carefully on and tucking herself right up next to him so he could wrap the arm around her shoulders.

"What are we going to do about Brighton?" she asked.

"Is there something that needs to be done?"

"Well, we can't _go_ still, can we? I mean…"

"Getting out of the house will be the best thing for all of us," Sebastian said. "We have to carry on as usual and let the rest of it run its course. Besides, the sea can be remarkably therapeutic."

He smiled at her and she conceded one of her own though she didn't look quite convinced.

"Things will look better in the morning," he said.

Grelle took a deep breath, let it out through her nose. "I suppose they will."

He drew her up, pressed a kiss to her lips. "Now sleep."

She settled down and rested her head on his chest. He held her close and waited for her to close her eyes. As tired as she was, it wouldn't take long for her to be asleep. Only a minute went by before her breathing had slowed and her body relaxed.

One arm around Grelle's shoulders, the other pinned under Auden's head for her pillow, Sebastian lay between them and watched them sleep, shut his eyes for a moment and sensed that beautiful, passionate red pulse of Grelle's soul, the dim blue beating of Auden's beside him. He opened his eyes to look at her, that brave marvel of a girl. What a fighter she was, now dozing peacefully. As he looked, the words from a poem crept into his mind, one he'd first read in the forties and had typed up to tape on the refrigerator for Grelle. It took a moment's tracking down, but soon he had pieced together the first stanza:

 _Lay your sleeping head, my love,  
_ _Human on my faithless arm;  
Time and fevers burn away  
Individual beauty from  
Thoughtful children, and the grave  
Proves the child ephemeral:  
But in my arms till break of day  
Let the living creature lie,  
Mortal, guilty, but to me  
The entirely beautiful._

He smiled. It was "Lullaby" by W.H. Auden.


	19. Epilogue

Victoria Station was wonderfully busy. The bustle of commuters and overhead announcements, sunlight streaming in through the glass and the metal far above her on the ceiling. As Auden stood in front of a display board with Grelle and Sebastian, the three of them waiting for their train platform number to appear, Ronald came jogging up to meet them, pulling a small weekend suitcase in his hands.

"Hiya," he grinned as he reached them. "Looks like I'm just in time."

"There," Sebastian said. "Platform 8B."

He grabbed hold of his and Grelle's luggage and started off toward the escalators that would drop them off underground on the platforms, their tickets in hand. Grelle took a few quick steps to catch up to him and take his arm. Auden and Ronald fell into step behind them.

"How are you feeling?" Ronald asked.

Auden took a deep breath, but looked up at him and nodded. She was feeling all right. More all right than she might have expected to feel. A new sensation was creeping into her mind, replacing the fear and the paranoia she'd once felt. It was satisfaction. The bittersweet taste of revenge. She was honestly more worried about feeling that way than she was about anything else. It was spooky. She didn't know she'd had such venom in her.

"Cheers. We missed you at Dispatch."

She and Grelle had been given the day off. Suspension, they called it, but it was really recovery. Auden had slept late, right through their shift, and woken to packed bags and breakfast. Finally, _finally_ they were headed for the sea.

An engineer checked their tickets. They all settled into their seats, Auden by the window, just looking out onto the dark, black walls of the train tunnel for the moment, but soon they started to move and a little bolt of excitement shot through her. They were off.

She watched England fly by through her window when she could see it. Sometimes there were grassy hills right up against the train tracks that blocked her view, sometimes other stations that they whizzed right by. At one point they shot through a tunnel, and the change in pressure pulled the open windows shut, and made her ears pop, and it hurt, but Auden could only laugh. What she did see was beautiful. Rolling green hills, trees, cottages, great, sweeping expanses of field after field after field. For the first time, she was happy to be alive.

It was only an hour to Brighton, and she hopped eagerly from the train the second it pulled to a stop, careful over the enormous gap between the carriage and the platform. More metal and glass over her head, but green this time, and it was warmer here, just a slight salty scent to the humidity that hung in the air.

Leaving the station, passing under the arch with the sign that read "Welcome to Brighton", Auden was struck on her exit at how _blue_ the sky was. In London the sky was grey even when it wasn't covered by clouds and it had been the same in Yorkshire. But here it was blue, blue, blue and not blocked by big buildings. Just shops and residences, white and pink and yellow, none of them more than five or six stories high. A seagull let out a strident caw. The sun shone warm on her face. Auden decided she liked Brighton.

"Where's the ocean?" she asked.

"Straight ahead, darling," Grelle replied. She gestured down the street in front of the station, but Auden couldn't see it.

"Where?"

"Well, it _is_ a walk, Auden. The train doesn't just spit you out into the water."

"How far?"

"Fifteen minutes?"

"Can we go?"

"We're waiting for a cab," Grelle laughed. Sebastian was hailing one as they spoke, talking with the driver and then loading in their suitcases.

"Can _I_ walk?"

Grelle looked at Sebastian who motioned with his head for the three of them to come along, then back at Auden who was beginning to get this antsy feeling in her legs.

"Well…"

"I'll walk with you, Auden," Ronald said.

" _Would_ you?"

"Yeah, my pleasure. Here, take my case, Grelle." He passed over the handle to his luggage and then tucked his hands into his pockets, already strolling away. Auden hurried to catch up, careful crossing the street with him as Grelle got into the cab with Sebastian.

"Probably wanted some time alone, those two," Ronald said and winked.

Auden smiled, not sure how else to respond.

"What's it like, living with them?" he asked.

Auden turned her head every direction as they walked. "It's not so bad," she replied. Grelle and Sebastian were certifiably insane, no doubt, but Auden wouldn't have traded either of them for the world.

Brighton was lovely—a little dirtier than London, though Auden couldn't have cared less. They passed tacky tourist shops and funny looking pubs, clothing boutiques and restaurants, a bookstore, then a square with a clock tower where Auden could finally see the ocean—just a little square a different shade of blue from the sky between the buildings at the end of the road.

"There it is!"

She started walking faster, and faster, dashing by more restaurants and shops and a church, then a movie theatre, until she broke through the line of buildings that stretched across the waterfront and all that was in front of her was the sky and the ocean and a seafoam green railing that separated the beach from the road. She nearly ran out into traffic to cross the road in her excitement.

Puffing, Ronald jogged up behind her.

"Slow down," he laughed. "You're running a little too fast for a human."

Auden barely heard him, zipping across the street as soon as the signal changed and practically launching herself over the railing onto the stairs to go down to the beach. There was a stretch of asphalt, then cement, then the pebbles and she went flying across them, down a couple of dips in the rocks, right up to the water that crashed on them and drew back, making the most beautiful sound she had ever heard.

"Holy Moses, you're quick," Ronald breathed. He bent over his knees next to her when he came to a stop.

Auden couldn't take her eyes off the ocean. A cold breeze swept off it and ruffled her hair, made her shiver.

"The hotel's pretty close to here," Ronald said, swiveling his head around for a second before pointing off to the right. "That way, I think."

"Is it on the water?" Auden asked, glancing at him.

He nodded. "You just might have a view of it from your room."

Auden shivered again. That would be good. She'd like that.

Further down the beach, a pier jutted out into the ocean. It was loaded with buildings and rides—she could see a red and white and blue twisting slide shaped like a lighthouse from where she stood, just barely make out the sound of carnival music that wafted over on the breeze. Another pier, an old pier, what remained of it anyways, stuck up out of the water a little ways down on the right, just an outline of what used to be there, like a skeleton.

"What happened?"

"Caught fire," Ronald replied. "But it was closed for a while before that. Used to be _the_ place in Brighton in the twenties."

She looked at him for a moment. It was easy to forget he was just as old as Grelle. He didn't act it. Then again, neither did Grelle. It made Auden think. Would she talk about this trip to Brighton hundreds of years from now when the east pier was just as burnt and missing as the west one? Would she look back on her life now as "olden days" or "times gone by"? How different life and the world were now from the 1800s. Would the 2000s feel like that to her two hundred years from now?

By then everyone she knew in her old life would be dead. One of them already was. She shivered again, remembering Nick, remembering the fear, how Grelle had pierced his heart with her Scythe and collected his soul. His _soul_. Grelle must have reviewed it. She must have seen everything. For a moment, the thought made Auden feel sick, then another emotion entirely took its place. She'd seen many souls in her short time as a Shinigami, relived many lives through Cinematic Records, and the one thing that stood out from all of them was how _everyone_ suffered. _Everyone_ dealt with pain and sorrow and struggles beneath the surface that no one else ever saw. Auden wondered what Nick had gone through to turn him into such a sodding bastard. Or if there was anything at all.

She sighed. The ocean was beautiful, calming, lapping at the rock beach endlessly, one wave at a time. Did Nick deserve what he got? Perhaps. Or perhaps he was just one in a long line of humans who hurt each other. Whatever the case, Auden would make sure she was the last.

"They're probably to the hotel by now," Ronald said, picking up a few of the rocks at his feet and launching them into the surf one at a time. "You want to head over?"

Auden drew in a deep breath, salty and cold with the air off the ocean. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah, I do."


	20. Author's End Note

Hello!

I hope you've enjoyed _Let the Living Creature Lie._ Auden, Grelle, and Sebastian will be back very shortly in a new story: _Wholly Given Over to Unfamiliar Affections._ I'm nearly finished with the first chapter and will have it posted ASAP.

I also anticipate writing more of the anniversary party in Brighton at some point, so keep your eyes open for that. I'd write it now, but it's all fluffy silliness and I don't want to get caught up in it quite yet. I can already sense it getting far, far away from me and becoming its own story.

Thank you all for reading, reviewing, and following! You're the best.

Much love.

~Phab


	21. Brighton Anniversary First Chapter is Up

Hello, dear readers! Phab here. This is probably not the update any of you were expecting, but I've posted the first chapter of the Brighton anniversary party. If you haven't already seen it, it's on my profile under "Brighton by the Sea". I needed a change of pace from the doom and gloom of Wholly Given Over, so I wrote the first part of the party instead. Hope you enjoy!


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